
*•1 










COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



BETWEEN THE LINES 
IN FRANCE 

A Boys' Story of the Great 
European War 

BY 

FRANKLIN T. AMES 

Author of “Between the Lines in Belgium.” 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
WALTER S. ROGERS 


NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1915 

By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 



fran ■ 

* 

APR -2 1915 

©CIA897394 


PREFACE 


In the first book of this European War Series 
I had the pleasure of taking the young reader 
through some of the thrilling scenes that marked 
the progress of the Kaiser’s vas.t army across Bel- 
gium. It is the purpose and aim of the present 
volume to follow the adventurous career of the 
little party who expected to tour Northern France 
in an automobile, with a French chauffeur. 

Of course they, in common with nearly all other 
American tourists, had heard vague rumors of the 
impending trouble between the Great Powers; but 
supposed that, as had happened many times before, 
it would all end in a mere “ flash in the pan.” 
Imagine their desperate situation when they sud- 
denly found themselves stranded in the hilly section 
of Northern France, with the knowledge that the 
long smoldering war fire had burst into a fierce 
flame. 

The very hour that the order for mobilization 
went out by wire every passenger and freight train 
in the Republic passed into the service of the French 
Government. Travelers found themselves set 
adrift at the first station reached; while the cars 
were used for the speedy concentration of troops 


Preface 


and munitions of war. With the life of the Na- 
tion at stake private interests were not considered. 

When in addition to this difficulty it is remem- 
bered that every motor car worth having was im- 
mediately commandeered for the use of the army, 
it is not to be wondered at that tourists quickly 
found themselves in desperate straits. 

It is the intention of the writer to not only arouse 
the reader’s interest by a narration of stirring ad- 
ventures but at the same time to base many of these 
incidents upon features connected with the Great 
War that are historically correct. 

I trust that every boy and girl who reads this 
book, as well as the preceding volume, will obtain 
considerable knowledge of the European conflict, 
with its lights and shadows, and that it will thus 
be discovered how every nation, great and small, 
may have its patriotic heroes, ready to sacrifice their 
all for their beloved country. 

Franklin T. Ames. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Streets of London i 

II Crossing the Channel n 

III The Mysterious Collision 23 

IV The Man of the Hour 32 

V A Stop at the Inn 42 

VI Trouble Begins 52 

VII The Terrible News 60 

VIII Stranded in the Shadow of War .... 71 

IX Andre Hears the Call to Duty 80 

X An Accident on the Road 89 

XI Held Up 100 

XII Caught Like Rats in a Trap in 

XIII More Refugees 122 

XIV The Uhlan Raiders 133 

XV Taken for a Spy 144 

XVI Friends at Court . 155 

XVII Between Hostile Forces 167 

XVIII A Prisoner of War 176 

XIX The Little Comforter 185 

XX The Long Night 194 

XXI In the Headquarters’ Tent 203 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII The Battle 212 

XXIII When Gun Answered Gun 221 

XXIV Amidst Crumbling Walls 231 

XXV The Abandoned Hospital 240 

XXVI On the Track of Uncle Alvin 251 

XXVII The Daring Sky Pilots 258 

XXVIII In the Trenches 267 

XXIX The Secret of Monsieur Arm and .... 276 

XXX Leaving France Behind — Conclusion . . . 287 

Notes 295 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Sitting there, and with every nerve on edge, Tom and 
Lucille listened to the. sound of the battle (Page 
274) Frontispiece 


FACING 

PAGE 


And then came a shock that upset them all into the road- 
way 94 k " 

“ Surround that man, and if he tries to escape cut him 


down like a wolf!” 140 




Tom found himself covered by several rifles gripped in the 
hands of men who wore baggy red trousers — French 
soldiers of the line 244 




































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BETWEEN THE LINES 
IN FRANCE 


CHAPTER I 

THE STREETS OF LONDON 

“ Oh ! well, what’s the use of denying it? I did 
think at first it was a live officer. Now, laugh as 
much as you please, everybody ! ” 

“ They say you begged the wax Bobby’s pardon 
for stepping on his toes ; is that so, Lucille ? ” 

“ Now, Uncle Alvin, that’s carrying the joke too 
far, for I never said a word.” 

“ Well, anyway, she opened her mouth to apolo- 
gize, like the little lady she is, when Mart spoiled 
the whole thing by telling us to look at the make- 
believe policeman.” 

This chatter sprang from a merry party of sight- 
seers in London on a warm summer day. They 
walked along near the Marble Arch of Hyde Park 
in squads, though keeping close enough in touch to 
exchange friendly remarks, amidst considerable 
merriment and laughter. 

There were three groups, consisting of four par- 

i 


2 Between the Lines in France 

ties each, and all of the tourists hailed from the Land 
of Liberty across the Atlantic. Although friends 
of long standing in America, they had different ob- 
jects in view when making this trip to Europe dur- 
ing vacation time. 

The Dorrs intended spending most of their time 
in Belgium, whence their family had come origin- 
ally. They had a relative somewhere off toward the 
German border who had extended a warm invita- 
tion to them to pay him a long visit. Besides Mr. 
Dorr and his good wife there were two boys, Mar- 
tin, and Harvey his cousin, in this group. 

Then came the Maillards, three of them, Uncle 
Alvin, Tom, a sturdy chap over sixteen at this time, 
and Lucille, his sister, about a year his senior. They 
purposed enjoying an automobile tour through 
Northern France, visiting several famous sections 
which had more or less to do with the Maillard 
family history. 

The Caslons numbered three also, Paul and 
Henry, twins, about the same age as Tom Maillard, 
and their mother, who was a widow. Austria was 
the field they meant to explore, though first intend- 
ing to cross to France in company with those who 
were headed for Paris. 

Last of all were the Bartletts, Frank almost a 
man grown, and Thomas just turned seventeen. 
Heading first of all for Hamburg they expected to 
make their way to the wonderful country of the 


The Streets of London 3 

Rhine, and see everything worth looking at in that 
section of the German Empire. 

As this story will deal in the main with the three 
Maillards it is only proper that we should describe 
Tom, his lively sister, and their uncle at further 
length. 

Tom was a wideawake boy, able to see nearly 
everything that occurred within range of his vision. 
He had shown himself fairly clever in everything 
he undertook, from running an automobile, to pick- 
ing up what useful knowledge a boy is supposed to 
learn, if he takes advantage of his opportunities. 

At home Tom had for two years been connected 
with a Boy Scout troop, and had worked himself 
up from a mere tenderfoot to the position of first- 
class scout. He was particularly fond of outdoor 
life, and able to shift for himself to a remarkable 
degree. Indeed, his chums used to say that if Tom 
were dropped in the midst of an interminable for- 
est, with just three matches, a knife, some cord for 
a bow, and a little salt in his possession, he would 
be able to live royally for a week, always provided 
there was game to be found, to be caught in the 
snares he would set. 

Such an enterprising and resourceful lad can get 
along almost anywhere ; and even in a strange land 
these qualities were apt to stand him in good stead. 

His sister Lucille, although older than Tom, was 
rather diminutive in size. What she lacked in 


4 Between the Lines in France 

stature, however, she made up for in activity. Lu- 
cille also loved Nature, and was so fond of walking 
and horseback exercise that she presented the pic- 
ture of health. Tom at times called her his “ pal,” 
and indeed, a boy might go a long way before meet- 
ing a better all-around chum than Lucille Maillard. 

As for Uncle Alvin, he was about the best old fel- 
low a boy and girl could hope to have with them on 
a foreign tour. In his way he was quaint, but al- 
ways good-natured. He had a faculty for getting 
into trouble, though nothing could force him to see 
anything but the silver lining to the cloud. In Uncle 
Alvin’s opinion things could always have been much 
worse than they were; and when Tom, who was a 
little given to complaining, vented his ill-humor it 
was Uncle Alvin who always cast oil on the troubled 
waters. 

He was not very robust, and subject to occasional 
dizzy spells; but so full of humor and merry sayings 
that all the young people were delighted to be in his 
company. 

They had done London pretty thoroughly in the 
short time they could spare. With motor cars to 
whisk tourists around in these modern days much 
more can be seen in a limited time than formerly. 

As their chatter would indicate, they had recently 
visited the famous Madame Taussaud’s Museum 
and Waxworks, where almost every important per- 
son in the world’s history has been represented. 


The Streets of London 5 

Here numerous traps set to deceive visitors had 
given the young people cause for amusement. Lu- 
cille was not the first person by many thousands who 
had been deceived by the mock policeman, or other 
images suddenly come upon in life-like attitudes. 

They were now on the way to their hotel, since 
the pilgrims bound for Belgium had to get ready to 
go to their boat. The party would break up into 
three sections in London, though they planned to 
get together again later on, if possible, in Rome, and 
cross to New York on the same steamer. 

Needless to say these plans were sadly disar- 
ranged by events which few people at the time sus- 
pected were hiding just below the horizon. 

Harvey Dorr had been taking a number of pho- 
tographs with a little camera that he had received 
as a present from a relative, and which contained 
the finest lens money could buy. He had arranged 
it cunningly so that in reality it looked very much 
like an humble little package of lunch, covered with 
coarse brown paper, and tied with a rough cord. 

By manipulating this in a certain way Harvey 
was able to take a great many pictures that might 
not otherwise have been possible. He called it true 
art to be able to catch an urchin’s pose without the 
subject knowing that he was having his picture 
taken. 

This concealed camera was the object of consider- 
able boasting on the part of its owner, and naturally 


6 


Between the Lines in France 


one thing led to another until finally Tom Maillard 
scoffed at Harvey’s declaration that he would get 
numerous forbidden snapshots of forts and all such 
things, while visiting in Belgium. 

“ You’ll land in jail in a big hurry if you try 
that sort of game,” Tom told Harvey, “ because 
these Germans and French and English and Bel- 
gians are always suspicious of spies; and any one 
seen taking a picture of military subjects is put in 
the lockup on the run. Take my word for it you’ll 
not be able to show three of that kind of snapshots 
when we meet in Rome; and if you keep your 
camera you’ll be lucky.” 

Of course that led to more warm talk, and ended 
in a wager being laid. This was to the effect that 
Harvey should be able to have on display at least 
a dozen pictures of such forbidden subjects as fort- 
resses, warships, troops at maneuvers, air craft, and 
other matters pertaining to a country’s defenses. 

“ I’m real sorry for you, Harvey,” Tom would 
remark at every chance he got. 

“ Oh, don’t waste your sympathy,” the Dorr boy 
would retort, not one whit dismayed by all these 
gloomy predictions of trouble ahead; “you’ll need 
it all for yourself when you begin to have your 
motor troubles in that rough country you expect 
to tour through. I’ve fixed it all so that nobody 
would ever dream I had a camera.” 

“ So much the worse for you when they do find it 


The Streets of London 7 

out/’ jeered Tom, “ because then they’ll be dead sure 
you are a German spy. Haven’t I heard you spout- 
ing what little you know of the German language? 
When we eat that dinner at Rome we’ll think of you, 
Harvey, and shed a tear or two ditto.” 

“ How about us over in Germany? ” asked Frank 
Bartlett. “ Do you think we will get into any 
trouble because Thomas here is carrying a pair of 
marine glasses that were made in Paris ? ” 

“ I’d scratch the maker’s name off if I were you,” 
Tom Maillard told him, jokingly; “you see the 
Kaiser doesn’t want anything French around him 
these days. Even down in Alsace and Lorraine, 
the provinces taken from France after the War 
of 1870, they forbid the use of that language, try- 
ing to make over the people into good Germans.” 

They were now on the Strand, which as usual was 
a crowded thoroughfare, being in places almost im- 
passable. Only for the efforts of the “ Bobbies ” 
and the frequent “ isles of safety ” in the middle of 
the thoroughfare it would have been next to impos- 
sible for the party to cross from one side to the 
other. 

The boys never grew weary of watching the ve- 
hicles worm their way along. Since the coming of 
the motor ’bus the old time stages with their horses 
had disappeared; but the jam was even worse than 
before. 

Upon these public conveyances there were an un- 


8 Between the Lines in France 

limited number of flaming advertisements, almost 
completely hiding the sides in some cases. This 
was a new departure to the travelers, since it has 
never been carried to such an excess across the 
water; and they were never tired of making all 
manner of fun at some of the grotesque signs dis- 
played. 

Upon the tops of the motor ’buses they saw 
numerous people who amused them by their appear- 
ance. Possibly it was because they were set up in 
such plain sight, as though on parade, for there were 
other spectacles all around just as amusing had they 
chosen to observe them. 

“ Oh ! look at that funny little man and the big 
woman he’s with! ” exclaimed Tom Maillard, point- 
ing to a ’bus that was passing at the moment. 
“ There’s your chance for a dandy snapshot, Harv. 
He’s certainly a character ; and say, I’d like to know 
if that’s his wife along with him.” 

“ Oh ! I’ve got him tied down all right,” remarked 
Harvey, carelessly, as he dropped his hands contain- 
ing the seemingly innocent-looking brown paper 
package ; “ and that’s going 'to be a bully picture, 
because the light was just right.” 

“ There,” said Lucille, suddenly, “ now he’s look- 
ing back this way as if he wonders why on earth so 
many savages from across the big pond have come 
to dear old London. Oh! mercy! did you see the 
way she gave him a shake then, and made him face 


The Streets of London 9 

front ? Why, she must be a regular Tartar, I should 
think.” 

“ Well, the fact of the matter is, Lucille,” said 
Paul Caslon, with a wink at the rest, “ the lady must 
have noticed that there was a pretty girl in the party, 
and she objects to her poor henpecked husband turn- 
ing to look back. But Pm sorry for that little 
man ; he must be led a dance by such a wife.” 

Although the incident gave them occasion for a 
little merriment, neither Tom Maillard nor his sister 
dreamed that they would ever set eyes again on the 
subjects of Harvey’s latest snapshot. Nor could 
they suspect what a remarkable and thrilling set- 
ting the picture would have when, by sheer accident, 
they once more found themselves gazing on that 
illy-assorted pair. 

“ I’m sorry we have to break up our party so 
soon, just when we were having the time of our 
lives,” Uncle Alvin said, as they prepared to cross 
to the opposite side of the Strand, because their 
hotel happened to be situated close by in that quar- 
ter. 

“ But all of us are anxious to commence the real 
object of our trip across to this side,” Mrs. Caslon 
remarked. “ Seeing London, after all, is simply 
an incident of the journey. And we are looking 
forward to a most enjoyable summer, some in Bel- 
gium, others in France and Germany, as well as the 
Austrian Tyrol.” 


io Between the Lines in France 

“ What wonderful things we will have to tell 
when we meet again ! ” ventured Mr. Dorr, “ and if 
Harvey is successful with his pictures we expect to 
find pleasure in looking over his collection.” 

At that Tom Maillard was heard to give a scorn- 
ful laugh; and Harvey frowned in his direction, 
well knowing what was in the other’s mind. Un- 
doubtedly Tom fully expected that the ambitious 
amateur photographer would indeed have some 
thrilling adventures to relate, if he could ever con- 
vince the authorities that he meant no harm in 
breaking their strict injunctions against carrying a 
camera into military reservations. 

“ Now’s our chance to get over! ” called out Uncle 
Alvin, a little excitedly, as the officer waved back 
the seemingly never-ending procession of every kind 
of vehicle known to London street traffic, thus giv- 
ing the cross stream a chance to move forward. 

The party began to head for the other side, when 
there must have been some misunderstanding of sig- 
nals; for some of the stalled vehicles started moving 
again. The two ladies uttered little shrieks of 
alarm, though possibly there was really no danger 
of their being run over; and the boys immediately 
seized upon them so as to ferry them safely across. 
Then Mr. Dorr called out at the top of his voice : 

“ Look to your uncle, Tom; he’s been seized with 
one of his fainting spells, and may be run over by 
that motor ’bus ! ” 


CHAPTER II 


CROSSING THE CHANNEL 

As it happened, just at that critical moment none 
of the boys was within reaching distance of Uncle 
Alvin. They had bustled up to assist Mart’s mother 
and Mrs. Caslon across so that the stricken man was 
almost under the oncoming motor ’bus when a; 
gentleman sprang forward and snatched him from 
the imminent peril. 

It was done so deftly that Tom Maillard, who had 
attempted to hurry back to render what assistance 
he could, found his uncle safely deposited on the 
pavement. 

The stranger was a rather pleasant looking man, 
with a remarkably keen eye, and a business-like air. 
Somehow he did not impress the party as an Eng- 
lishman and when he spoke they were more than 
ever convinced that he must be a foreigner. 

“ Can I do anything further for you, sir?” he 
asked Mr. Maillard, who was already fast recover- 
ing from his swooning spell. 

“ Nothing, thank you,” weakly replied the old 
gentleman, with one of his rare smiles that always 
charmed people. “ I am subject to an occasional 
attack of this kind. It couldn’t have taken me at 


ii 


12 Between the Lines in France 

a more unfortunate time; but fortunately you were 
the friend in time of need, sir. I thank you very 
much for your assistance/’ 

The others had gathered around, and Mr. Dorr, 
liking the looks of the stranger, as well as feeling 
under obligations to him on account of what he had 
so cleverly done, proceeded to introduce the whole 
party. 

“ My name is Armand — Gustave Armand,” the 
gentleman informed them, as though he considered 
it only right he should meet their friendly advances 
thus far at least. At the same time he handed 
Uncle Alvin his card. 

Apparently he had become quite interested in the 
party, whom he could see were from the great 
country to the west of the Atlantic; and America is 
a land of considerable fascination and yearning to 
many millions of Old World people. 

After he had been told how they were bound for 
various Continental countries on sight-seeing trips, 
Mr. Armand proceeded to inform them further of 
his own affairs. 

“ It happens that I, too, am bound for La Belle 
France, sir,” he said to Uncle Alvin, “ where just at 
present I have an important mission to fulfill. It 
would be very pleasant if a good fort j should 
throw us together somewhere there.” 

“ I should be glad indeed to meet you again, Mr. 
Armand,” returned Uncle Alvin. He really meant 


Crossing the Channel 13 

every word of what he said. There was something 
peculiarly attractive about the new acquaintance, 
even though some of them afterwards gave it as 
their opinion that he seemed a little mysterious. 

He was very cordial, and shook hands all around 
before tipping his hat as the most polite Frenchman 
might, and walking hastily away. 

“ Wouldn’t it be strange if we should happen to 
meet him again over in France? ” remarked Lucille, 
as she tripped along at the side of Mart Dorr and 
Thomas Bartlett. 

“ As much chance of finding a needle in a 
haystack as that happening, I should say,” Mart 
declared; “though of course queer things do come 
along sometimes. I’ve heard of two men who were 
next door neighbors in New York for ten years, 
and only knew each other by sight, coming face to 
face on top of one of the pyramids in Egypt.” 

“ Yes,” continued Tom, laughingly, “ and the 
chances are they were so glad to see a familiar face 
that those two men shook hands on the spot as 
though they had been life-long friends.” 

By this time they had arrived close to their hotel. 
The subject of the mysterious stranger seemed to 
be lingering in the minds of some of the travelers, 
for Ht.ixy Caslon was heard to say to Harvey 
Dorr: 

“ Do you know it wouldn’t surprise me a little bit 
if our new friend turned out to be a Government 


14 Between the Lines in France 

spy. Didn’t he say he had to go over to France on 
a mission? And don’t we hear lots of talk about 
German spies over in England, even if both coun- 
tries are at peace? He looks just like what I’d pic- 
ture a real foreign spy to be.” 

“ Oh ! that’s owing to your bump of imagination, 
Henry, which they say is abnormally developed,” 
Mart told him, carelessly. “ He looks just like an 
average gentleman to me ; and I reckon he’s only an 
agent for some French automobile factory, trying to 
sell a big order for his firm over in Great Britain.” 

“ He seemed a very pleasant gentleman to me,” 
added Lucille, who with her brother Tom, was 
close enough behind to overhear the subject of their 
dialogue. Somehow this haphazard suggestion on 
the part of Henry Caslon sank deep in the mind of 
Tom Maillard. It was fated to recur many times to 
him in the near future, when he found himself on 
historic French territory. 

Always the answer to that question, “ who can 
Monsieur Armand be? ” seemed to dance just before 
his grasp; just as a will-o’-the-wisp in lonely grave- 
yards or marshy places keeps tantalizingly out of 
one’s reach. 

As soon as dinner had been dispatched the whole 
party took conveyances to the station to wish the 
Dorrs a hearty farewell. 

They expected to start by train for the boat that 
was to carry them across the lower part of the 


Crossing the Channel 15 

North Sea, direct to the city of Antwerp on the 
River Scheldt in Belgium. 

As might be expected there was the usual merri- 
ment as they saw their friends enter the compart- 
ment that had been reserved for them, and after 
the guard had locked as well as closed the door. 

Just before the train pulled out the last hand- 
shakes were exchanged amidst all manner of laugh- 
ter and promises. 

“ Be saving of your spare cash and spending 
money so as to settle for that dinner when we meet 
again in Rome,’ , warned Tom Maillard, crooking 
a finger at the scornful Harvey, who was leaning 
from a window and apparently holding that brown 
paper package in his hands, though they knew he 
was trying a parting snapshot. 

“ I’d advise you to take your own advice, because 
you’ll need it,” Harvey called back, as the train be- 
gan to move off. 

There were waving handkerchiefs from the car- 
riage windows until those who remained in the sta- 
tion lost sight of the train back of other lines of 
cars. Although those who had thus started for the 
interesting country of Flanders anticipated having 
an enjoyable time there, of course they could not 
dream of the remarkable vicissitudes of fortune they 
were fated to endure before meeting these dear 
friends once more. 

What those strange adventures were has been 


1 6 Between the Lines in France 


told in the pages of the first volume of this series of 
war stories ; and if you wish to follow the fortunes 
of Mart and Harvey Dorr, as well as learn what 
success the latter had with his cunningly concealed 
camera, you can do so by reading, “ Between the 
Lines in Belgium.” 

Since they chanced to be caught in that country 
when war was suddenly declared by Germany, and 
the wonderful army of the Kaiser started across the 
neutral territory of Belgium in order to strike a 
swift blow at France, it can be understood that the 
Dorr boys must have encountered many thrilling 
adventures. 

The rest of the party expected to start before 
nightfall, two for Hamburg, while the others headed 
for France. They had all their baggage ready, and 
being wise travelers carried as much with them as 
possible; since it is not as easy to send a trunk 
abroad as in our own country, no checks being 
given, and every one being expected to identify his 
own property from time to time. 

“ I’m afraid we’re going to have a rough passage 
across the Channel to-night,” Uncle Alvin told the 
rest as they once more headed for the station to- 
wards train time, having said good-by to the Bart- 
letts, who were to make a start from another 
quarter. 

The party was now reduced to just one-half of 
the original number, with Uncle Alvin in supreme 


Crossing the Channel 17 

command. This position of authority afforded him 
plenty of opportunities for pretending to be a severe 
captain, when everybody knew he was the mildest 
and most lovable old fellow that could be imagined. 

“What makes you say that, Uncle Alvin?” de- 
manded Lucille, looking anything but pleased; for 
while she had not been very sick on the voyage 
across the Atlantic, she had heard terrible stories 
about that trip of a few hours on the Channel, where 
even old sailors often have to give up and admit that 
they feel squeamish. 

“ There are indications of bad weather, I under- 
stand,” the old gentleman replied. 

“Not a storm, I hope?” the girl continued, un- 
easily. “ Oh! wouldn’t it be too bad if after all we 
met with a shipwreck, just when we were within 
sight of the shores of beautiful France?” 

Tom laughed the idea to scorn. 

“ Piffle ! ” he exclaimed, for occasionally Tom was 
known to indulge in certain forms of slang, though 
as a rule not addicted to the habit, because Lucille 
would not allow it; “that storm business is all 
moonshine. Why, the English Channel is only a 
little stretch of water at the best. They say on a 
clear day you can see the white cliffs of Dover from 
the French side. What’s twenty miles? They’ve 
got big guns that can throw a shell almost that far.” 

All the same, the fact that it was a windy and 
gloomy night impressed some of the travelers un- 


1 8 Between the Lines in France 


favorably. When later on, as they were about to 
board the steamer at Dover, they saw a party turn- 
ing back, saying they would wait for the next boat, 
Lucille cast an uneasy look at her uncle. 

“ Do you suppose they are afraid it’s going to be 
too stormy outside the harbor ? ” she asked him, at 
which the old gentleman smiled, and hastened to re- 

ply: 

“ Well, it might be they’ve decided to wait for 
smoother water; people often pick their time that 
way in crossing the Channel. But they may also 
have some other reason for changing their minds.” 

“ Why, yes,” broke in Paul Caslon, “ I think I 
heard them speaking as though they were disap- 
pointed in some one not showing up here. I guess 
they mean to go to a hotel, and wait for him to come. 
No storm that blows could make me give up a trip, 
if the captain was willing to take the chances.” 

Paul had always been reckoned a regular water 
duck, and never suffered in the slightest degree from 
sea sickness. That kind of people never understand 
how others less fortunate feel when the vessel com- 
mences to reel upon a choppy sea. 

So they went aboard, and made themselves as 
comfortable as the conditions allowed. It would 
only be for a short passage, and then they expected 
to be carried on to Paris, where the following morn- 
ing would find them ready for more sight-seeing 
before the party finally broke up. 


Crossing the Channel 19 

“ Now we’re off ! ” said Paul, joyfully, as the last 
commands were given, and the Channel steamer be- 
gan to move away from her landing stage. 

The young folks were all at the rail watching 
everything that went on ; but Mrs. Caslon and Uncle 
Alvin, being experienced travelers, had discreetly 
found seats in the saloon cabin, where they could be 
comfortable, and resist the dreadful feeling they an- 
ticipated would soon be gripping them. 

Even in the harbor it was anything but steady. 
Lucille showed that while she had always been reck- 
oned an unusually brave girl, she was not a born 
sailor. 

“ It’s getting worse all the while, don’t you 
think?” she asked, as the boat began to rock vio- 
lently, and some of the numerous passengers started 
to seek places where they could lie down, since they 
were less likely to suffer when in that position. 

“ Oh! it’s a joke to hear you talk that way, when 
I’m just beginning to really enjoy things,” said Paul 
Caslon. “ Let the old wind blow, and crack its 
cheeks if it wants ; and the seas roll as high as moun- 
tains, too. This is a bully little boat, all right, and 
she’s stood some corkers of storms in her day, they 
say.” 

“ But she must be old now, and not nearly so well 

able to stand up against a st oh ! dear, what a 

terrible lurch that was! Do you think she could 
have sprung a leak, Henry? That sometimes hap- 


20 Between the Lines in France 

pens, I’ve read, when a ship’s timbers are strained 
too hard. Is that sound I hear every once in a 
while the men manning the pumps ? ” 

Paul acted as though he wanted to laugh louder 
than ever, but he saw that Lucille was really nerv- 
ous, and he thought too much of Tom’s pretty little 
sister to be rude. 

“ Well, so far as I know, Lucille,” he told her, “ I 
don’t think they ever have to put the crew at the 
pumps on board a steamer while the donkey engine 
is able to do the work. And on nearly all boats 
they often keep taking the bilge water out of the 
hold. There’s a certain amount of seepage all the 
time, you must understand. I wouldn’t worry about 
it, Lucille.” 

“ I’ll never be satisfied unless I can get the captain 
to tell me himself that this isn’t much of a storm,” 
the girl continued, still holding on to her seat as 
though she feared she might be suddenly hurled 
overboard. 

“ It’s a glorious sight to me,” Paul declared, some 
time later; “ we must be nearly half-way across by 
now, and just see how the big waves come smashing 
up against the side of the boat. Every one has a 
white mane on top just like horses rushing along. 
I wouldn’t have missed this for a whole lot.” 

He seemed to be about the only passenger able to 
say this, for most of them were cowering here and 
there, and signs of distress abounded. 


Crossing the Channel 21 

The captain on the bridge noticed the boy who 
stood and never seemed to tire of looking out over 
the heaving, darkened sea; and doubtless he told 
himself that there was a born sailor. At the same 
time he sent one of his officers to request that Paul 
keep away from the rail, as there was always a pos- 
sibility of the deck being swept by a giant billow, 
that might carry him off. 

Unfortunately Lucille was near enough to over- 
hear this message, and it added to her distress of 
mind. She admitted that she was a little coward on 
the sea, although brave enough ashore. No horse 
had ever been too wild for her to mount; and Tom 
could have told of numerous occasions where his 
sister had shown a bravery calculated to arouse his 
enthusiastic admiration. 

Yes, Lucille had been presented with a gold 
medal by a Humane Society because she had once 
upon a time saved the life of a small boy who had 
broken through the ice of a deep mill-pond. Lucille 
shivered now as she listened to the wind whistling 
past, and the great waves beating a loud tattoo 
against the side of the staunch steamer. 

Perhaps it was not much of a storm to the grim 
captain up there on the bridge ; but it had all the ele- 
ments of terror to many of the unfortunate passen- 
gers. 

Suddenly, without the slightest warning, there 
came a terrific shock, followed by a clamor of 


22 Between the Lines in France 

shrieks from alarmed men and women, and the 
hoarse commands of the officers. 

A scene of turmoil followed, as every one realized 
that there had been some sort of collision in the 
middle of the Channel, — in the darkness and the 
storm. 


CHAPTER III 


THE MYSTERIOUS COLLISION 

“ T here, we’ve run into another vessel ! And 
you laughed at me for being afraid. Go and see if 
we are sinking, Tom ! Paul, get me a life preserver ; 
but you stay with me, Henry ! ” 

A little queen could not give orders to her willing 
slaves and secure more immediate results than Lu- 
cille did. Two of the boys darted off, while the 
shrieks and shouts all over the pitching vessel grew 
more clamorous. 

At least the engines were keeping up their steady 
grind, for the throb of their pistons could be felt, 
and the steamer continued to keep her head in the 
direction of the French coast. 

Lucille admitted that she shared the belief of most 
of the alarmed passengers, that they must surely be 
going down. After that one outburst, however, the 
girl managed to contain herself. She even spoke a 
few soothing words to a wretched woman who was 
carrying on as though wild with fright. 

The captain and officers hurried here and there, 
while the little vessel was plunging on, sometimes 
almost burying her nose in the smothering billows 
that met them dead ahead. 

23 


24 Between the Lines in France 

“ There is no need of alarm ! Calm yourselves, 
we are in no danger ! Fasten on the life belts if you 
will; but I give you my word there is no need! 
Everything is all right, friends. Be calm! By 
shouting you are only adding to the fright of the 
poor women passengers ! ” 

As they continued to talk in this strain by de- 
grees the officers induced the men to display reason. 
Already the crew had gathered around the boats, 
ready to prevent any mad attempt to lower them into 
that black gulf, where, ten chances to one, they 
would be immediately swamped. 

A few frantic men and women had to be bodily 
hurled back, their one idea being that the steamer 
must surely be going down, and those first in the 
boats would have at least a chance to escape the gen- 
eral doom. 

Paul came hurrying back. He had scooped up a 
number of life preservers, and the very first thing 
the boy did was to fasten one of these about Lucille. 
Although her hands trembled violently she managed 
to be of such assistance that the cork belt was soon 
secured. 

“ Now let me help you with yours, Paul,” the girl 
said, as she snatched up another of the life preserv- 
ers ; “ and I hope you brought enough for every one ! 
Oh ! Uncle Alvin, let me fasten this around you. Do 
you think we will go down right away ? Tom, have 


The Mysterious Collision 25 

you found out all about it; and did the other poor 
vessel founder ?” 

Uncle Alvin, as usual, was not to be panic-stricken. 
Where others were seeing only the black side of 
things he sturdily maintained that there was really 
no danger. 

“ It’s going to be all right,' ” he told them, wav- 
ing Lucille and the life belt aside. “ No, I will 
not put one on, because it only adds to the general 
alarm. You hear what the captain is saying? He 
says there’s no cause for any fear; that the vessel 
isn’t leaking a drop, I must hurry and find your 
mother, Paul; she will be distracted, I fear. Keep 
together, and try to quiet some of these poor peo- 
ple.” 

With that Uncle Alvin hurried away. In a great 
emergency like this he was like the Rock of Gibral- 
tar with his sublime faith in everything coming 
out right. There could be no telling how much his 
confident demeanor did to soothe the alarmed pas- 
sengers. 

By degrees the panic grew less. Women sobbed 
now instead of shrieking, and the voices of men 
were heard in comforting words, rather than abus- 
ive threats toward the staunch crew guarding the 
boats, because they refused to let these be lowered. 

“ Well, that was a terrible experience,” said 
Henry Caslon, as the little party kept as well out 


26 Between the Lines in France 

of the way of the flying spray from the bow of the 
pitching boat as they could. “ What do you sup- 
pose we struck, Tom? ” 

“ That’s what everybody is asking,” came the 
reply ; “ and I warrant you right now that bunch 
of excitable Frenchmen over there are disputing 
about it. Look at them making all manner of ges- 
tures, will you? Lucille, can you understand what 
they are saying? ” 

The girl listened to the swift flow of words for 
a short time, and then she laughed softly; which 
was a pretty good sign that she must have recov- 
ered from her little fright, even though she was 
still trembling. 

“ Oh ! they are very much in earnest,” she told 
the three boys. “ Each seems to be so sure his 
theory is the correct one; and they are backing it 
up in all sorts of ways. I never knew that French- 
men could be so ingenious.” 

“ Tell us what they think, won’t you, Lucille ? ” 
begged Paul. “ That’s what a fellow gets for com- 
ing abroad without picking up a smattering of the 
language. Now, I know some German, which I 
hope will help us out when we’re in the Austrian 
Tyrol, but French is like Hebrew to me.” 

“ That tall man with the peaked beard is saying 
we must have collided with some vessel trying to 
cross our path,” Lucille explained ; “ and that it 
went down with all aboard. He declares he cer- 


The Mysterious Collision 27 

tainly heard the cries of the poor passengers before 
the sea swallowed them up; but the others tell him 
it must have been the shriek of the storm, and the 
cries aboard our own boat.” 

“ How about the little man who jumps about so 
much — the one who wears that queer high hat ? ” 
asked Tom. 

“ His idea is we struck some floating log or piece 
of a wreck,” the girl continued ; “ and that it is the 
greatest luck in the world our vessel wasn’t smashed 
in the bow when we hit it head on. He says he 
heard the captain tell that to some passengers.” 

" I guess he’s about right, too,” muttered Tom; 
but so low that none of the others paid any atten- 
tion to what he was saying. He caught himself 
just in time, as though he had learned more during 
his little tour of investigation than he thought it 
prudent to tell. 

“ But there’s a third French passenger in the 
bunch, Lucille,” Paul observed, being quite per- 
sistent; “ he looks as if he thought he knew all about 
it. When he tells the others something they seem 
to be staggered, and shrug their shoulders like every- 
thing. Now I reckon he must have hit on an ex- 
planation that beats theirs all hollow ? ” 

“ It surely does,” replied Lucille, as though 
amused. “ He declares there can be no doubt 
about it that we struck one of those German sub- 
marine war craft, which he says are constantly pok- 


28 Between the Lines in France 

ing around in the Channel, trying to pick up valu- 
able information about currents, shore lines, and all 
sorts of things that might be useful in case there 
was a war; but which are unpardonable breaches of 
etiquette in times of peace.” 

“ Oh ! these French will never forgive the Ger- 
mans for taking away their provinces,” said Henry, 
who was a great reader. “ The feeling of hostility 
crops out in a thousand ways, I understand. As if 
a submarine would come to the surface while this 
wild storm was on! But I suppose all the argu- 
ment in the world wouldn’t convince that man with 
the big imagination.” 

“ He says he only hopes it was a German subma- 
rine, and that we sent it to the bottom of the 
Channel, never to come up again,” Lucille finished. 

“ It seems to me they do nothing but talk war 
over on this side,” Henry remarked. “ In England 
it’s about the way Germany keeps on boosting her 
navy, and toasting ‘ The Day/ which everybody 
knows means the time when the German navy will 
meet the British in battle on the sea and defeat 
them.” 

“Yes,” added Tom, “and in France we’ll hear 
the Triple Entente toasted, with sly hints of the ap- 
proaching time when they expect to snatch back 
their lost provinces from Germany.” 

“ I expect,” Henry told them, “ in Austria to 
hear nothing talked *)f but the dangers lurking in 


The Mysterious Collision 29 

the Balkans. You know how just a little while ago 
the heir of the Austrian throne and his wife were 
murdered in Bosnia, and that it is said a crazy 
'Servian did it.” 

“ Yes,” said Tom, chiming in, “ and they believe 
he was put up to it by some persons high up in the 
Servian military service. Austria is boiling over 
with rage ; and Uncle Alvin says Servia will have to 
get down on her knees pretty soon, and make 
amends.” 

“ Well, it's too bad all these things are happening 
just when we’ve crossed the Atlantic on a vacation 
jaunt,” Lucille lamented. “ This promised to be 
the event of a life-time for all of us. Wouldn’t it 
be terrible if war did break out, and spoil our whole 
trip? ” 

“ Uncle Alvin laughs at such a thing happening,” 
said Henry ; “ and he ought to know these people 
pretty well, because he’s been a great traveler in his 
day. He says it will be the same old story — Aus- 
tria and Germany will make a big bluster, and rattle 
the sword in the scabbard a while, with all sorts of 
horrible threats; then Russia will induce Servia 
to do whatever is demanded, and so the incident will 
be closed. Uncle Alvin knows all about it ; you can 
depend on what he says.” 

But Uncle Alvin was like a good many other wise 
people, who judged the immediate future by the 
past. The cry of “ Wolf ! ” had been uttered once 


30 Between the Lines in France 

too often; this time the peril to the peace of Europe 
was genuine. 

By degrees the excitement aboard the Channel 
boat died away, so that even the crying of nervous 
women and children had ceased. Ensconced in their 
retreat where they could avoid the flying spray 
and the danger of an occasional billow coming 
aboard, the four young people counted the passing 
minutes, finding considerable satisfaction in the 
thought that every one was taking them nearer 
port. 

Tom left them several times, and on coming back 
and being questioned, explained that he was merely 
“ taking a look around.” 

Finally through the blackness beyond they sighted 
a friendly light, which they heard an officer say 
marked the entrance to Calais Harbor. Upon 
hearing this Tom was observed to exhibit consider- 
able relief. 

“ You’ve been keeping something from us, Tom,” 
exclaimed Lucille, who knew her brother bet- 
ter than either of the others could. “ I’ve been 
watching you for some time, and could see that you 
were anxious. I believe you learned more than you 
chose to tell us, when you went to see if any damage 
had been done to our steamer.” 

“ Own up, Tom,” pursued Paul ; “ we’re safe 
now in port, and the danger is past. Was there a 


The Mysterious Collision 31 

bad leak ; and have they kept the engine working all 
this while to save us from foundering? ” 

“ I reckon there’s no harm in my telling you 
now,” Tom admitted, lowering his voice as he con- 
fessed, since he did not wish others to hear what he 
said. “ It’s as you thought, Paul ; whatever we hit 
there in the middle of the Channel, it knocked some 
sort of hole in our bow. Right now we are a lot 
lower in the water than when we started.” 

“ Oh ! mercy ! ” exclaimed Lucille, in dismay, 
“ and if the Channel was a hundred miles across 
instead of only twenty or so, we would go down ! ” 
“ Just as like as not,” replied Tom, coolly; for 
since the peril was of the past he no longer felt that 
terrible weight resting on his shoulders. 

How eagerly did they see the lights showing up 
ahead, and understand that all chance of the steamer 
foundering was now set at rest, for soon she would 
be at her dock, when they could go ashore. 

Often in other days would their thoughts go back 
to that stormy night on the English Channel, and 
the shock that came to them when their steamer col- 
lided with some unknown object, escaping almost 
by a miracle the fate that has befallen many a noble 
vessel. 

All of them felt a great relief when finally they 
set foot on the soil of France; the solid ground had 
possibly never before felt so good. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE MAN OF THE HOUR 

“ So you think, Tom, we’ll be able to get away 
from Paris to-morrow, and start for the North of 
France in our automobile? ” Lucille was saying just 
three days after they had landed at Calais, after the 
rough passage from England. 

The Caslons had spent two of these in their com- 
pany, looking over the gay French capital. They 
had now gone on to Austria, and the three Mail- 
lards were left to carry out their proposed plan of a 
tour through the many interesting districts up in 
the northern provinces bordering on Belgium, 
Luxemburg and Germany. 

“ That’s what Uncle Alvin says,” her brother re- 
plied, hopefully ; “ and I’m glad it’s all fixed at last. 
But we certainly have had a great time getting 
around here in Paris. I’ll never forget the things 
I’ve seen.” 

“ Yes,” added Lucille, as she looked out of the 
hotel window at the bustling crowds, “ and particu- 
larly those awful catacombs under the city. How 
fortunate it was we happened to be here on just the 
one day a month they permit people to enter there, 
and explore the places where all those heaps of 
32 


The Man of the Hour 33 

bones lie. Every time I look at my fragment of 
candle I’ll remember that sight. We must have 
walked miles and miles under the streets of the 
city.” 

“ Yes, and there was that trip uncle and I took 
in a boat through the big sewers of Paris,” her 
brother added ; “ that was an experience worth 
while, let me tell you. Now about that tour, he 
says he has chartered a fine big car, and secured an 
experienced chauffeur, French of course, who’s been 
all over the ground more than a few times.” 

“ Oh ! I’m glad of that,” Lucille observed, “ be- 
cause somehow I’ve had a little fear we might get 
lost up there; or follow the wrong roads and be 
mired in a swamp over night perhaps.” 

“ Well, what if that did happen, we would always 
carry enough things along with us so as not to 
starve, or be cold. Plenty of room in a touring car 
for heaps of blankets, and even cooking things, if 
you want.” 

“ I hope our driver will be a nice man,” ventured 
Lucille, “ because you know lots of the pleasure of 
a trip like this depends on how he acts. I’ve seen 
chauffeurs who were so ugly-tempered they took 
away all the fun of the thing. You kept shivering 
most of the time for fear they’d get in a temper, 
and run the car over some bank, or into a stone 
wall, just for spite.” 

“ Oh ! Uncle Alvin says he believes Andre will be 


34 Between the Lines in France 

a real good sort of fellow,” Tom hastened to assure 
her. 

“ Then his name is Andre ? That’s a nice name,” 
Lucille continued; “ and I hope he turns out just as 
fine. Andre what, Tom?” 

“ Andre Duval, which is a pretty classy name for 
a chauffeur, I should say. But Uncle Alvin says he 
comes of a good family, though they are just now in 
reduced circumstances. The one thing that bothers 
me is all this silly war talk.” 

“ Do you hear much of it among the English and 
Americans in our hotel?” she asked, showing con- 
siderable concern. 

“ They seem to talk of little else,” replied Tom, 
frowning. “ It seems that Austria has just made a 
demand on Servia that is mighty harsh. If Servia 
refuses to comply with all the conditions, then her 
big neighbor declares she will invade her territory 
and wipe her out.” 

“ Oh ! but that is hardly fair, because Servia would 
be only a bite to Austria; it is so small a nation,” 
Lucille told him, with the natural American liking 
for fair play. 

“ Yes, but those Servians are terrible fighters, 
and they never seem to know when they are 
whipped,” continued the boy, with considerable en- 
thusiasm, for like all his type he greatly admired 
heroism wherever found. 

“ I do hope it will all blow over by the time we 


The Man of the Hour 33 

get started,” Lucille sighed, as she contemplated all 
the delightful prospects before them, which would 
be seriously disturbed, if not altogether ruined, 
should the war flame break out. 

“ Of course Uncle Alvin keeps on saying it’ll end 
in a puff of smoke,” Tom told her, reassuringly; 
“ and he ought to know better than a boy like me. 
Only lots of people are taking it seriously; and you 
ought to hear what they are saying about what 
France and Russia, backed by Great Britain, would 
do to the Kaiser if he did draw the sword.” 

“ Why, even the chambermaid who looks after 
our rooms was telling me that her sweetheart, who 
of course belongs to the reserve army, received 
warning to hold himself ready to join the colors at 
any hour. And I must say that looks pretty serious, 
no matter what Uncle Alvin thinks.” 

“ It sure does,” Tom assented. 

“ It’s about the time we promised to meet uncle, 
and take that walk along the avenue,” remarked 
Lucille; “ there are a few things I want to see, and 
if we leave Paris to-morrow this may be my last 
chance. Come, let’s be going, Tom.” 

Tom may have had an idea that he would much 
prefer to visit certain other places in Paris where 
interesting sights awaited the tourist, but he knew 
that his uncle would not wish him to wander off by 
himself. So making the best of a bad bargain he 
accompanied Lucille down to the lobby of the hotel, 


36 Between the Lines in France 

where sure enough the little old gentleman awaited 
them. 

They were soon sauntering along one of the gay- 
est thoroughfares in all Paris. It was a charming 
summer afternoon, and one would never dream that 
the shadow of war rested on the land to see the 
throngs of well dressed and apparently happy peo- 
ple upon the boulevards and avenues. 

There were always many things to be seen, so 
that Lucille kept up an almost constant stream of 
talk, asking questions which Uncle Alvin answered 
as best he might, and calling attention to this odd 
spectacle, or that magnificent building. 

“ Oh ! there is Mr. Armand, I do believe ; over by 
the curb talking to that army officer sitting in that 
military car ! ” she suddenly exclaimed. 

Both her companions immediately looked, doubt- 
less under the impression that she must surely be 
mistaken; but Tom was quick to confirm her state- 
ment. 

“ Just who it is, as sure as anything,” he said. 
“ The same gentleman who pulled Uncle Alvin out 
from before that motor ’bus on the Strand in Lon- 
don. He told us he was coming over to France, 
you remember, Lucille. And say, he must be some- 
body of consequence, because that’s an officer pretty 
high up, I should think, if you notice his medals and 
decorations, as well as his fine military air.” 

“ And look how people all seem to bow so politely 


The Man of the Hour 37 

as they pass by,” continued the girl. “ I expect he’s 
well known, and a high favorite with the Paris 
crowds.” 

“ That is General Joffre, the idol of all France, 
and the real commander-in-chief of the army of the 
Republic,” said Uncle Alvin, turning toward the 
young people. “ If a war should break out he will 
be the man of the hour over here. Evidently our 
friend, to whom I am so deeply indebted, is per- 
sonally acquainted with the famous general. As 
you say, it shows that M. Armand must be a person 
of some consequence.” 

“ There, he has looked this way, and I think he 
must have recognized us ! ” said Lucille, with more 
or less excitement ; and then she added : “ Now he 

has shaken hands with the general, and turns away. 
Oh! Uncle, I do believe he means to come over 
and speak to us again.” 

“ Which would be very kind of him indeed,” the 
other remarked, with a smile ; “ but I could see that 
M. Armand was rather taken with our lively crowd 
of young Americans. He meant it when he said 
he hoped to meet us over here.” 

A minute later the grave gentleman was shaking 
hands with each one of the little party. His eyes 
betrayed his pleasure at seeing them again. 

“ So you have come to Paris, and seem to be 
enjoying your visit,” he remarked, as he stood with 
them on the pavement of the avenue ; while the oc- 


38 Between the Lines in France 

cupant of the military car moved along, answering 
the continual salutes of the crowds. 

“ Yes, all our friends have gone their several 
ways,” replied Uncle Alvin ; “ some to Belgium, 
others to Germany, and the last lot to the Austrian 
Tyrol. We expect to leave on our automobile tour 
in the morning.” 

“ Ah ! yes,” observed M. Armand, a little 
shadow, Tom noticed, coming across his forehead 
as he spoke. “ I remember your telling me how 
you had laid out a delightful trip through the 
Northern provinces, where some of your people 
came from, a few generations back. You expect to 
have a fine time looking up places connected with 
those old days, of course?” 

“Yes,” the old gentleman assured him, eagerly; 
“ I have wanted to make this trip for a long while, 
but other things interfered. These young people 
anticipate having a glorious time for the next 
month or six weeks, when school duties will force 
us to return home. We are pleased to have met 
you again, M. Armand. Pardon me, but was that 
General Joffre we saw you conversing with just 
now? 

“ Yes, the one man in whom France has the ut- 
most confidence, and the most beloved of all her 
commanders,” replied the other hastily. “ Every- 
body knows him, and in spite of his position he is 
exceedingly democratic. Even an humble individ- 


The Man of the Hour 


39 

ual like myself could find an opportunity to chat for 
a few minutes with him, since it happens that we 
have known each other for some years.” 

“ He looked to me like the right sort of man for 
his position,” said Uncle Alvin, “and I’ve seen 
pretty much all the noted military commanders of 
the last thirty years, from the older Von Moltke 
down to the present.” 

“ Ah ! yes, France may have cause to congratulate 
herself before long that she is fortunate enough to 
have such a man in charge of her armies,” the 
other ventured to say; at which of course, recog- 
nizing the hint behind the words, Uncle Alvin 
sought further information. 

“ Then you fear that something serious may come 
of all this war bluster and talk, do you, monsieur? ” 
he asked. 

“ It would not surprise me,” he was told, cau- 
tiously, as though the other did not want to say 
too much. “ I give you my word for it the French 
authorities are not wholly asleep. Everything de- 
pends on what Austria will do with the answer 
which Servia must soon send her. If she chooses 
to strain a point, the black shadow will pass over.” 

“And if not? ” further questioned the American 
traveler. 

“ Then there will be war, the greatest and most 
frightful war in the history of the world,” he was 
told, with a shrug of the shoulders. 


40 Between the Lines in France 

“ And Germany ? ” continued Uncle Alvin. 

“ Is bound to back her ally up to the limit, Mr. 
Maillard. That would mean a declaration of war 
upon Russia, and quickly following, upon poor 
France as well. If only Great Britain does not fail 
to do her part, France will welcome the chance to 
pay back the long-standing score she owes Ger- 
many. But then, as I said, it is all uncertain at 
this hour. We may not know for a week what is 
coming. But if war is forced upon France it will 
be brought about as suddenly almost as the light- 
ning darts from the cloud. I wish you were going 
south instead of north.” (See Note i.)* 

“ That would change our plans, and we could not 
think of that,” said the other, as confident as ever 
that the trouble would all pass away. “We expect 
to keep in touch with events as they happen; and if 
the prospect gets too threatening, why Paris will be 
only a couple of days’ journey away in a good car.” 

“ Well, I sincerely trust you will come out all 
right,” the other continued. “ My personal mis- 
sion does not progress as well as I could wish. I 
am endeavoring to secure signatures to a paper 
from two Frenchmen who, I have reason to believe, 
are now in the regular army. So it is barely pos- 
sible, my good friends, that by rare good luck we 
may happen to come across each other again, some- 
where, sometime, if we are all heading north. Un- 

* For notes see end of volume. 


The Man of the Hour 41 

til such time, which I shall anticipate with pleasure, 
I must say adieu.” 

He shook hands with each one in turn, and 
walked away. Lucille and Tom looked after him, 
and the latter expressed what was in his mind 
when he said to his sister : “ That’s the most mys- 

terious man I ever met, and I shouldn’t be surprised 
if Henry Caslon hit the mark when he said he 
guessed Mr. Armand must be a military spy or a 
secret agent.” 


CHAPTER V 


A STOP AT THE INN 

On the late afternoon of the second day after 
that meeting on the boulevard of Paris a big tour- 
ing car drove up to the inn of a town in the north 
of France, among the hills of that picturesque 
region. 

Beside the French chauffeur sat Tom Maillard, 
while Uncle Alvin and his lively little niece occu- 
pied the tonneau, together with quite a collection of 
belongings calculated to add to the comfort of the 
journey. 

“ We’ve had a great day of it,” Lucille was say- 
ing, in her customary happy way, as she jumped 
out, and then turned to assist the old gentleman, 
who naturally felt more or less stiff after sitting so 
many hours. 

“And I rather like the looks of this inn, too,” 
remarked Tom, sniffing the air as a hungry dog 
might when approaching the camp fire at which 
supper was being prepared. “ I rather think they’ll 
give us something good to eat, to start with. And 
then there’s an air about the whole place that speaks 
well for its being clean.” 

They had been very fortunate thus far on the 
4 2 


A Stop at the Inn 43 

trip, not having suffered any delay worth mention- 
ing. One little blowout was the extent of the dam- 
age done, and now the outlook was fine, since a new 
shoe had been placed upon the offending wheel. 

Andre Duval, the French chauffeur, seemed to 
know his business thoroughly. He handled the big 
car in the dexterous fashion that French drivers 
always exhibit. Tom was only provoked because, 
having to sit alongside Andre, his lack of knowl- 
edge of the French language prevented him from 
doing much talking. The driver seemed to be just 
about as badly off when it came to speaking English, 
so what little communication they had must be by 
means of signs, and gestures and shrugs. 

Lucille, of course, could air her French from time 
to time, with fair success, although Tom told her 
more than once that Andre had to make a guess 
at what she meant to convey. 

“ This is as pretty a place as any we’ve seen so 
far,” Lucille told her brother, as they sauntered 
about, taking note of the green hills, the cultivated 
fields, and the general air of thrift that pervaded the 
town and its surroundings. 

The chauffeur was working at his car, for there 
seemed always something that needed attention 
whenever they stopped for a time. Uncle Alvin 
had gone up on the porch and was resting in a com- 
fortable chair. 

“ Yes, and I should think there might be a chance 


44 Between the Lines in France 

of getting some game up in those woods yonder,” 
Tom remarked, showing that his thoughts ran in 
that sort of groove, while his sister’s mind was 
taken up with the scenery. 

“ How about that war scare, Tom; do you know 
whether uncle has heard anything lately about it? 
I’m worried more than ever now, since Mr. Armand 
spoke the way he did. If the Germans did invade 
France all this country up here that I’ve been ad- 
miring so much would suffer dreadfully.” 

“ Just what it would,” replied Tom, “ and it 
would be a shame too, when the people seem to be 
so contented and happy. I asked uncle about it, 
and he said that at last accounts Servia hadn’t made 
her answer yet, but that Austria had threatened the 
little nation with an ultimatum.” 

“ I suppose that means that unless she gives an 
answer right away, and of a kind Austria can ac- 
cept, the big bully will start to punish Servia and 
then the whole of Europe must be plunged into war. 
Oh! I wish it was settled. I can’t sleep right 
nights; it’s getting on my nerves, Tom — it really 
is.” 

“ Shucks ! we’ve got mighty little to bother us, 
sis,” Tom told her, in his careless boyish way; 
“ when we get word that it’s coming, all we have 
to do is to order Andre to head for Paris, and away 
we’ll tear over these fine roads, to reach there in 
a hurry.” 


45 


A Stop at the Inn 

“ Our trip will be ruined,” she mourned. 

“ Oh ! trust uncle to fix up another one for us. 
I saw him looking over some maps and folders of 
Spain this morning; and it wouldn’t surprise me to 
learn he had laid out a tour through that country, 
if we have to skip out of this.” 

“ But all the same, Tom, that wouldn’t be dear 
France, where all our ancestors came from, you 
know,” Lucille continued. 

“ Oh ! don’t cross a bridge till you come to it,” 
Tom told her. “ That’s what I call borrowing 
trouble. Plenty of things to knock you in this 
world without going out of your way to hunt for 
’em. As for me, I’m going to keep right along 
getting as much fun out of the game as I can, and 
enjoying my three good meals a day. Whew! but 
something they’re getting ready for supper does 
smell mighty fine ; I hope we won’t have to hold out 
a great while longer before they call us in.” 

“ That’s just like a boy — always thinking of eat- 
ing,” laughed his sister. 

“ Huh ! I notice that you don’t let anything 
good get past you when we’re sitting at the festive 
board,” he told her. “ Boys may do more talking 
about their being half-starved and all that; but 
some girls I know can hold their own when it comes 
to a showdown.” 

“ Now, don’t be personal, Tom, because it isn’t 
nice. I was just wondering how all the others are 


46 Between the Lines in France 

getting on by now — the Dorrs, the Bartletts, and 
the Caslons.” 

Undoubtedly, wise Lucille made this remark 
partly in order to change the subject; and in this 
she seemed to be successful, for Tom said in 
reply : 

“ Do you know, I’ve been picturing poor Harvey 
looking out between the bars of a Black Hole in 
Antwerp or Brussels, where he’s been thrown when 
the military authorities caught him sneaking photo- 
graphs of their forts and defensive secrets. You 
heard me warn him, didn’t you, sis? I kind of 
guess Harv will have some stories to tell worth 
hearing when we see him again.” 

“ Now I look at it the other way,” Lucille as- 
serted. “ Harvey is too smart a boy to let himself 
be caught taking those forbidden photographs. He 
had fixed his little camera too cute for anything; 
and the most suspicious soldier would never dream 
that brown paper package looking like luncheon 
held a picture-taking machine.” 

“ There’s the supper call ! ” cried Tom, immedi- 
ately commencing to hurry toward the inn, as 
though he felt a horrible dread that unless he got 
into his chair promptly he might find himself left 
out. 

It seemed that there were a number of other 
guests at the inn, and all of them sat at one long 
table, where they were helped by the proprietor and 


A Stop at the Inn 47 

his daughter. Just as wise Tom had predicted, 
everything was as neat and clean about the place as 
could be; and the food that was served to them had 
an appetizing flavor such as few save French cooks 
know how to impart. 

One man did not seem to have much to say. He 
was a red-faced, stout individual, who ate raven- 
ously, and hardly looked up from his plate. Once 
when he said something to the girl who was wait- 
ing on him Tom was surprised to hear him speak 
in German, and then follow with a French word, 
as though he might have forgotten himself. 

He left the table before any of the others, how- 
ever, being a quick eater. And after he had gone 
Tom noticed that the other three guests, who may 
have been commercial travelers from Paris, selling 
their wares in this northern town, seemed to be 
discussing the stout man. 

“What are they saying about him, sis?” Tom 
asked in a low tone, his curiosity getting the better 
of him ; “ because Fve noticed that you were listen- 
ing to them talk, for all you looked down at your 
plate. I spoke to you twice, and you didn’t seem 
to hear me.” 

“ Why, I couldn’t help hearing what they said,” 
Lucille explained, turning a little red with confu- 
sion, since she did not like to be known as an eaves- 
dropper; “for they didn’t make any effort to tone 
down their voices, knowing he had gone out.” 


48 Between the Lines in France 

“ Then they have been talking about that red- 
faced man, just as I expected ?” Tom continued, 
with a touch of triumph in his voice. “ Who and 
what is he? I heard him say something that 
sounded like German to that girl.” 

“ He is a German, Herr Mattbaum by name,” 
Lucille replied. “ They were telling the new man 
who has just arrived from Paris how he came here 
last spring with a rich capitalist from up on the 
Rhine, named Herr Kluck. They had heard much 
about the abandoned quarries near this town, and 
wanted to look them over. It ended in the pur- 
chase of the quarries by a German syndicate.” 

“ And they have been working them since ; and 
this man must be the manager, then?” Tom ob- 
served, as though immediately losing interest in the 
matter, since it had turned out to be such a common- 
place thing. 

“Oh! but it happens that they had no idea of 
quarrying stone,” Lucille told him, cautiously. 
“ You see, there are many dark caves about the 
quarries, and it was with the idea of starting a big 
mushroom farm that they bought them.” 

“ Why, yes, of course, I know mushrooms are 
always grown in the dark, caves and cellars being 
used to start the spawn,” Tom admitted. “ And, 
say, that was a cracker jack of a scheme, now, wasn’t 
it? So the enterprising German firm took them 
over; and I reckon they’ve been working to get 


A Stop at the Inn 49 

their crop growing ever since. Our friend with the 
red face is a mushroom grower, is he ? ” 

Although Tom never suspected it at that time, 
the scheme turned out to be of greater magnitude 
than he or any other person ever dreamed; indeed, 
when the actual truth came out later on, and the 
world knew what that small army of German im- 
ported workmen had been doing in those same quar- 
ries all these months, the facts seemed almost 
incredible, they were so astounding. 

When the German army retreated from before 
Paris, those same quarries afforded them the most 
admirable fortifications that could be imagined. It 
is said that foundations for their great guns were 
ready prepared, such had been the wonderful fore- 
thought shown by the German Military Government. 

There are many who to this day believe that the 
German Herr Kluck who conducted negotiations 
for the purchase of the abandoned quarries, and 
General von Kluck, the commander of the German 
army that rushed toward Paris, were one and the 
same person. 

Uncle Alvin, who could talk French, as well as 
several other languages, had evidently been listen- 
ing also to what the commercial travelers were say- 
ing. If he thought anything at all about the matter, 
it was only to conclude that when it came to invad- 
ing other countries, and starting business enter- 
prises, the Germans were about as pushing as the 


50 Between the Lines in France 

next one. “ Made in Germany ” he had found on 
all sorts of implements and articles all over the 
known world. 

“ I suppose we’ll be going on again in the morn- 
ing,” Tom remarked, as they left the table; “ well. 
I’ll be glad enough for some things, and sorry about 
others.” 

“ Yes,” said Lucille slily, guessing what was in 
his thoughts, “ they do know how to serve a good 
meal here, that’s right, Tom.” 

Tom sauntered off by himself. Uncle Alvin had 
again sought that easy chair on the porch, where 
he could enjoy a quiet smoke after a good dinner. 
Lucille was trying to write a letter to some girl 
friend across the ocean, with whom she expected 
to keep up a one-sided correspondence while touring 
France. 

It was beginning to grow dusk, though the twi- 
light lasted long at this season of the year. 
Around him Tom could hear all manner of sounds 
such as were apt to be met with in a peaceful 
French town on a summer evening. 

Sweet-toned vesper bells had some time back told 
of the fact that they were in a country where the 
peasants were deeply religious by nature and edu- 
cation. From beyond the confines of the town 
came the sound of lowing herds on their way home 
from distant pastures. Dogs barked, and children 


A Stop at the Inn 51 

playing nearby added their shrill voices to the gen- 
eral chorus. 

Tom Maillard did not mean to go away from the 
near vicinity of the inn. Not that there was any 
possible danger of his meeting with lawless charac- 
ters, for he had reason to believe that these country 
folk were all peaceful and honest, paying attention 
to their daily toil, and not troubling themselves con- 
cerning the affairs of others. 

After a little stroll, just to get the “ kinks out of 
his legs,” as Tom told himself, he was once more 
approaching the inn, this time from the rear, having 
made a circuit during his walk. 

A little group of men seemingly in earnest con- 
versation attracted the attention of the boy. When 
he looked again he suddenly discovered that one of 
the trio was their chauffeur, Andre Duval. Tom 
began to feel a queer sensation that might even be 
called apprehension, when he took note of the fact 
that the other two men were rather suspicious look- 
ing characters. 


CHAPTER VI 


TROUBLE BEGINS 

“ I wonder who they are, and what Andre is 
talking with them about ?” Tom asked himself, as 
he watched. 

He admitted that it was curious, since Andre had 
certainly never mentioned the fact that he knew any 
one in this northern French town. He could 
hardly have had time to finish his work on the car, 
and get his supper; yet here he was volubly dis- 
cussing something with a couple of strangers, whose 
looks did not please Tom any too much. 

Curious would hardly describe the facts, and the 
boy was more inclined to use a much stronger word 
— suspicious. 

What did they know about Andre, after all? It 
was true he had come to them well recommended, 
and seemed to be up in his business as thoroughly 
as any chauffeur might, but then that was begging 
the question. 

Was he honest? Could he be relied on in an 
emergency? Doubtless he had guessed before this 
that the elderly American was a wealthy man, trav- 
eling for pleasure, and able to afford almost any 

52 


Trouble Begins 53 

luxury. Uncle Alvin was just such a prize as any 
clever, unscrupulous rascal might plan to pluck. 

Were these other men scoundrels? Why did 
they keep glancing, apprehensively, Tom thought, 
toward the inn? Uncle Alvin might still be sitting 
there on the porch, for it was not yet fully dark, 
and the air mild. They must be talking of him, 
and how easy it would be for Andre to lead his 
unsuspecting little party into some sort of trap! 

Tom had read more or less about Italian, Spanish 
and Balkan bandits, and how it was a favorite 
game with them to capture some rich person, whom 
they would hold for a heavy ransom. 

“Great Jupiter !” he muttered to himself, as he 
felt a peculiar shiver pass over him. “ What if we 
were caged that way, and kept prisoner in some of 
those horrible quarry pits that German company is 
using to grow mushrooms in ? ” 

The mere thought appalled him. He stared 
harder than ever toward the spot where the three 
men were conversing so earnestly. 

“Looks to me like those two thugs might be 
trying to convince our chauffeur it would be to his 
interest to join in with them. There they go pluck- 
ing at his sleeve again, and Andre shakes his head 
as though he might be holding back. Now he’s 
pointing to where our car stands. I wonder if they 
want him to steal that? Gee whiz! but this is get- 
ting on my nerves, all right.” 


54 Between the Lines in France 

Tom wondered what he ought to do. There was 
Uncle Alvin, to be sure; but as Tom very well 
knew, the mild-mannered old gentleman had such 
great faith in human nature that it would be next 
to impossible to convince him of the treachery of 
their accomplished chauffeur. 

“ He’d just laugh at me, and read me a lecture 
on thinking ill of people,” grumbled the boy. “ All 
these things that look so ugly to me uncle would 
dismiss with a wave of his hand, by telling me they 
were as innocent as could be, and that Andre had 
only run across some old friends of his.” 

There was only Lucille left. True, Lucille was 
a girl, but many times in the past she had proved 
that she could be relied on to furnish as good a set 
of nerves as any chum Tom had ever had. In- 
deed, outside of her dread' for the sea, Tom knew 
of nothing that could cause Lucille to show the 
white feather. 

“ She’s as good a pal as a fellow would want, 
for a fact,” he told himself, while trying to figure 
out what he should do; “ the only thing is if I tell 
her about Andre’s queer actions it’ll give sis a bad 
inning. She’s come to think he’s as reliable as 
they make them.” 

Just then the three men turned away. Tom felt 
a new cause for alarm. 

“ Here’s a pretty kettle of fish,” he continued to 
tell himself, as though getting at least a little satis- 


Trouble Begins 55 

faction in that way; “they’re heading straight for 
the car, as sure as shooting. Now I wonder if 
that precious pair want Andre to let them chase off 
with it; and what ought I to do if they try such a 
game ? ” 

The boy was worked up to an almost feverish 
pitch by now. He even mentally groaned to re- 
member how really helpless he was, should any- 
thing untoward occur. 

“ All I could do, I suppose, would be to yell out ; 
and much they’d care about my whoop. But now 
they’re looking the car over, and Andre is explain- 
ing something about it. Perhaps they don’t mean 
to run it off so boldly; it would be just as easy to 
wait for us at some place agreed on, where they 
wouldn’t be seen and recognized.” 

He was so thoroughly convinced that there was 
something wrong about these mysterious actions of 
their chauffeur, that Tom would not relax his vigi- 
lance until he had seen the three men walk hastily 
away. 

The last he saw of them they were still talking 
earnestly. Tom felt sure they had all the cus- 
tomary earmarks of dark conspirators. He recalled 
everything he had in times past read along those 
lines, and was quite settled in his mind Andre must 
be in the power of those bad men, who were forcing 
him to betray his employer. 

A sudden brilliant idea came to Tom. When- 


56 Between the Lines in France 

ever he had an inspiration like this it always seemed 
to flash into his mind, just as the lightning darts 
from a cloud. 

“ That might prevent them from running off 
with the car, anyway/’ he muttered, as he hurried 
over to where the big touring automobile stood, 
with its top raised so as to keep the dew off the 
seats, for it was to stay out all night. 

It was Tom’s idea to remove some important 
part of the engine, so that it could not be run again 
until this was restored. With his knowledge of 
mechanics it would be the simplest thing in the 
world to accomplish this, and in such a way that 
the chauffeur would not suspect anything until he 
came to start the car. 

“ I can slip out early in the morning and replace 
it,” Tom satisfied himself by saying; “ and even if 
Andre does discover what I’ve done. I’ll just say 
I was afraid somebody might try a joy ride with 
our machine while we were all asleep, so I settled 
that thing in my own way.” 

He pretended to be fussing around the car. If 
Uncle Alvin had been able to see him from the 
porch where he sat he would not have considered 
it at all odd; because Tom was one of those boys 
who like to handle anything in the way of machin- 
ery. He was a natural mechanic, and meant to 
take up a technical course when he entered college. 

Once or twice while the boy was hovering over 


Trouble Begins 57 

the car he thought he heard low voices approach- 
ing. At such times his heart would flutter with 
sudden excitement as he speculated on how he must 
act should Andre and those two conspirators sud- 
denly appear alongside, and discover what he had 
been doing. 

Perhaps it was only the effect of a lively imag- 
ination after all, for no one appeared to interrupt 
him. And when he had managed to secrete the 
important little connection belonging to the engine, 
the boy breathed easier. 

“ Now, if they get away with our car after all 
my trouble, I can’t help it,” he muttered, as he 
swung around so as to approach the house again. 

His next move would be to find Lucille, and he 
remembered that the last he had seen of his sister 
she was writing at one end of the porch, where a 
table stood. 

Yes, he could see that she was still there, though 
the evening shadows had fallen so heavily by this 
time that she no longer bent over her letter. In 
fact, Lucille seemed to be standing in an attitude 
of expectancy, and Tom rather fancied she must 
have detected his approach. 

The boy fancied he had a rather disagreeable 
task before him. Lucille might not look at tilings 
through his eyes, and she had a mind of her own, 
too. 

“ Whether she laughs at me for thinking Andre 


58 Between the Lines in France 

means to play us false or not,” Tom was saying to 
himself as he slowly advanced toward his sister, 
“ I’m not going to fix up that engine again to-night. 
Andre will never dream there’s a thing wrong un- 
less he tries to steal away. Then in the morning, 
before he shows up, I can make it all square again 
in a jiffy.” 

He had arrived at the steps leading to the porch 
by now. The first thing he noticed was that Uncle 
Alvin had gone in, possibly thinking the night air 
might not be the best thing for a gentleman of his 
age, subject to twinges of rheumatism. 

Then Tom, looking at Lucille again, fancied she 
seemed worried. 

“ I wonder could anything have happened to 
uncle while I was walking around? ” was the natu- 
ral thought that flashed into the boy’s mind. 

Uncle Alvin, good natured and lovable that he 
was, occasionally had bad spells at unexpected 
times. We have already seen how one of these 
came very near causing an accident while he was 
crossing a London thoroughfare, at the time they 
made the acquaintance of M. Armand, the affable 
if mysterious gentleman. 

This thought caused Tom to quicken his steps. 
If anything did happen to their uncle it would spell 
disaster to their delightful tour. But then this was 
not the main thing that gave Tom his uneasy feel- 
ing, because he entertained a genuine affection for 


Trouble Begins 59 

the old gentleman, and would have grieved sincerely 
in case anything befell him. 

In another moment he had reached the side of 
Lucille, to have her put a hand on his arm, and 
while her eyes sparkled with excitement say: 

“ Oh ! Tom, I’m so glad you’ve come. I was just 
going to hunt you up. Something so strange has 
happened; and somehow I’m afraid it is going to 
upset all our plans ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE TERRIBLE NEWS 

“Wait a second, Lucille; you knock me out 
when you talk like that ! ” Tom managed to gasp, 
staggered when the tables were so suddenly turned 
on him. 

“ But I don’t see why you should feel that way? ” 
Lucille told him, impatiently, as though disturbed 
at his manner. 

“ It’s because you’ve taken the wind out of my 
sails,” the boy hurriedly declared; “ for I was just 
coming to tell you about something queer I saw and 
ask you what you thought of it. But go on and 
tell me, Lucille; what could have happened while 
you were here on the inn porch ? I hope it doesn’t 
mean uncle has had a sudden bad turn ? ” 

“ Oh! no, nothing of that sort, Tom, thank good- 
ness ! ” the girl quickly informed him, which fact 
must have relieved Tom considerably. 

“ Then hurry and tell me ! ” he persisted, with 
the impatience of a spoiled brother. 

“Why, you see,” Lucille began, “I was sitting 
here, trying to finish my letter to Doris Paine be- 
fore it got too dark, when all at once I heard some 
one hurry up on the porch.” 

60 


The Terrible News 


6 1 

“ Was uncle still in his chair? ” interrupted Tom. 

“ No, he called a little while before that he 
thought he had better go indoors, and advised me 
to follow suit ; but I knew the air was too balmy to 
hurt me, so I told him I’d come before very long. 
When I looked up, thinking it might be you hurry- 
ing to tell me something you had found out, I saw 
that it was a stranger.” 

“ A man, of course, Lucille? ” 

“ Yes, and he went right in the taproom of the 
inn, where the proprietor was doing something, hav- 
ing lighted the lamps. And, Tom, just as soon as 
this stranger had said something to him you ought 
to have seen how wildly excited the innkeeper be- 
came. He put his hand to his head, and I thought 
at first he was going to faint, for he sank right back 
in a chair.” 

“ Bad news of some kind,” muttered Tom. 
“ Did you see the stranger hand him any tele- 
gram? ” 

“ No, he simply said something that came like a 
bullet, for it knocked the other over just as you 
would a partridge you fired at. Then, as I watched 
through this window here, I saw them commence 
to talk excitedly. The innkeeper was as white as 
a ghost. He seemed to be trembling as though he 
had received the greatest shock of his life. Some 
other men who were in the taproom, one of them 
wearing soldier’s clothes, were beckoned over, and 


62 Between the Lines in France 

joined the group. Then all of them talked in low 
voices. It was terribly exciting, and my heart 
pounded like a hammer.” 

Tom hardly knew what to think. Strange things 
seemed to be going on all around, to mystify and 
alarm them. 

“ Look in for yourself, Tom!” Lucille advised, 
upon seeing how bewildered he seemed; at the 
same time pushing him toward the nearby window, 
from which light escaped through the thin curtain 
that fluttered in the evening air. 

Yes, there was an excited group at the further 
end of the long taproom. Four, five, six, Tom 
counted in all. They were listening to something 
a man whom Tom had not seen before was saying 
very earnestly. The one in the garb of a French 
zouave seemed to be laughing as though pleased, 
which Tom thought very strange. 

Just then, as Tom .looked, it chanced that the 
stout, red-faced German whom they noticed at the 
supper table, and whose name they had learned was 
Herr Mattbaum, entered the taproom. Immediately 
every eye seemed to be focused on him, and as if 
by a preconcerted signal the earnest conversation 
stopped. 

The stout German picked up a newspaper, and 
giving the group a queer look, passed once more 
from the room. Then again the vigorous discus- 
sion broke out, accompanied by all manner of ex- 


The Terrible News 63 

pressive shrugs, and movements of the hands, after 
the French fashion. 

Tom turned toward his sister again. The mys- 
tery was too much for him to fathom off-hand. 
Lucille was watching his face as she could see it by 
the aid of the light that escaped from the interior of 
the taproom. 

“ Don’t you see how terribly in earnest they all 
seem, Tom?” she asked, eagerly. 

“ I guess it must have been something pretty 
serious that came to our landlord, sure enough,” 
he told her. 

“ Yes, but see the others, too; even those pleas- 
ant men we took for commercial drummers act as 
though they are as deeply interested as the inn- 
keeper. Both of them were just handing him 
money, as if they had received a sudden recall, and 
wanted to settle their bill. Oh! Tom, I’m afraid 
there’s something terrible hanging over our heads. 
I can just seem to feel it! ” 

“ But no matter what it is,” Tom hurriedly said, 
“ you’re going to be the same brave little pal I’ve 
always had stand by me, and I know it. Do you 
suppose, now, there could have been any sort of 
epidemic break out up here; something that might 
scare all these people, and break up the hotel man’s 
business ? ” 

“ I don’t know, Tom ; it seemed to me even worse 
than that. But didn’t you say you had something 


64 Between the Lines in France 

queer to tell me? Perhaps it has something to do 
with the same thing that gave the landlord such a 
shock. Tell me about it now! ” 

Lucille had a way of ordering her brother about 
at times that was almost domineering; but then 
Tom rather liked being taken in hand after that 
fashion. Besides, he was suddenly reminded that 
others, as well as the landlord and those Paris com- 
mercial drummers, not to speak of the zouave home 
on a furlough, were acting in a very strange way. 

“ Oh ! what I was going to say was about our 
chauffeur,” he began. 

“ Andre Duval, you mean ? ” asked Lucille, bend- 
ing closer to him. 

“ Yes. I happened to see him talking with two 
men whose looks didn’t impress me very much, I 
must say,” the boy explained. “ Of course it was 
just getting dusk, and I couldn’t see extra well; 
but I thought they looked sneaky and if you asked 
me I’d say I wouldn’t like to run up against that 
pair of a dark night, and in a lonely place! ” 

“ Oh!” 

That was all Lucille said just then. Apparently 
Tom had succeeded in giving her new cause for ap- 
prehension. His manner, even more than what he 
had thus far said, aroused her fears anew. Tom 
went on with his story, sinking his voice low, though 
there seemed no chance of any eavesdropper over- 
hearing what he was saying. 


The Terrible News 


65 

“ I watched them talking, Lucille, and it seemed 
to me the two men were trying to argue Andre 
into something that he didn’t wholly approve of. 
They pointed over at the inn, *and I supposed at the 
time it was uncle on the porch they meant, though 
you say he had gone inside. And then, what do 
you suppose they did but walk over to our car and 
examine it, just as if it was for sale! ” 

“ But, Tom/’ the girl protested, rather feebly it 
must be admitted, “ all that might have only been 
what any chauffeur would have done. Perhaps 
Andre is proud of having such a fine touring car in 
his charge, and was explaining some of its points to 
his friends.” 

“ Well, that might be so, of course, sis/’ Tom re- 
plied, grudgingly ; “ I don’t want to be too hard on 
Andre. It’s only suspicion so far with me; but I 
tell you their actions more than anything else made 
me think all sorts of terrible things. Why, I even 
figured out what a snap it would be if some rascally 
fellows up here in these quarries we hear so much 
about, made a business of carrying off rich tourists, 
and holding them for ransom. Uncle Alvin would 
be a pretty good subject for that sort of game.’ , 

Lucille laughed at that, though to tell the truth 
the effort was rather forced, since she did not feel 
very merry. 

“ You’re a foolish boy, Tom,” she told him ; “ and 
I don’t like the way you go around thinking bad 


66 Between the Lines in France 


things of Andre Duval. I’m sure he’s as honest as 
can be, and wouldn’t dream of doing anything to 
injure us. I suppose you think they might steal 
the car sometime in the night? ” 

It was Tom’s turn to chuckle then. 

“ I did think so,” he told Lucille, “ but that 
doesn’t bother me any more, because you see I’ve 
fixed it so nobody can run the car until I get good 
and ready to fish out a small but most important 
part of the engine that I’ve hid.” 

Lucille took a dozen seconds to fully grasp the 
scope of her brother’s diplomacy. Then she seemed 
willing to agree with him that at least it was not a 
bad idea. 

“ I suppose no harm can come of your doing 
that, Tom,” she replied; “but it’ll be too bad if he 
learns about it. I shall blush every time he looks 
at me, to remember that my brother suspected him 
of being a thief — perhaps worse.” 

“ Oh ! after all he may never learn about it, fori 
I mean to slip out at daybreak and fix things up 
again. There’ll be no harm done. People take out 
fire insurance not because they expect to have their 
house burned, but to feel easy in their minds. I 
shall sleep better knowing our car is safe.” 

“ But do you think, Tom, there could be any con- 
nection between what you saw, and what is going 
on in there ? ” 


The Terrible News 


67 

“ Whew ! I hadn’t thought of that!” muttered 
the boy, as he bent forward again, in order to look 
once more through the nearby window. “ I won- 
der if it could be so? Seems like everything must 
be happening at once; and here we’ve hardly got 
started on our trip.” 

“ They are still talking it over, Tom; and the 
landlord doesn’t look a bit happier,” Lucille was say- 
ing in his ear. “ Poor man! if he had lost his last 
sou, or heard his dearest friend was dead, he 
couldn’t seem more miserable.” 

“ They don’t seem to be trying to comfort him, 
that I can notice,” said Tom, shrewdly, “and that 
makes me think the bad news wasn’t for the keeper 
of the inn alone. It has struck everybody the 
same; only the soldier seems to be grinning as 
though it acted differently on him.” 

“ So he is,” added Lucille ; “ I wonder why that 
should be so ? What business has a soldier to laugh 
when other people look sad?” 

Tom might have tried to analyze this puzzling 
question, only at that moment he made another dis- 
covery calculated to rivet his attention. 

“ Look, Lucille, now we’ll likely know what it 
all means ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Uncle Alvin has entered the taproom,” she whis- 
pered, in new excitement ; “ and the landlord is call- 
ing him over to where the group of excited guests 


68 Between the Lines in France 


are standing. Yes, I do believe he means to tell 
uncle what has happened; and of course he must 
let us know soon.” 

The two stood just outside the window, and 
watched with an eagerness that caused their hearts 
to beat much faster than their wont. They saw the 
elderly gentleman approach the group, an expression 
of mild surprise on his face. Then the landlord 
must have said something to him in French, which 
Uncle Alvin spoke like a native. 

“ Oh ! it has staggered uncle, you see ! ” gasped 
Lucille, her hand tightening on Tom’s coat-sleeve. 
“ He looks as if he had received almost as bad a 
shock as the innkeeper did. But just like Uncle Al- 
vin, he refuses to believe bad news can be as serious 
as others think it. There, he is asking questions 
now, and the man who came in a little while ago 
seems to be answering him.” 

The seconds appeared like hours as they remained 
there, watching what was transpiring so close by. 
They could not hear more than an occasional word, 
owing to the puffing noise made by a motor pulling 
a train of loaded freight vans on the railway line 
that ran through the town. 

“ Oh ! dear, I wish he would hurry, and come to 
look for us,” said Lucille, impatiently. 

“ Uncle is being convinced, whatever it is they are 
telling him,” Tom continued, his curiosity not one 
whit abated. 


The Terrible News 


69 

“ Yes, I am afraid it’s so, Tom, for he looks more 
serious than I ever saw him before, as long back as 
I can remember. Oh ! it must be something serious 
to make Uncle Alvin turn so grave. What can be 
hanging over our heads? Isn’t he turning away 
yet, Tom? ” 

“ I think he must pretty soon,” the boy replied, 
“ because he doesn’t ask so many questions, and I’m 
sure he is thinking deeply, for I can see his face 
screwed up, like you know it always is when he’s 
making plans.” 

“ Perhaps you might give that little whistle of 
yours, Tom,” suggested the girl, in desperation, for 
she was becoming very nervous under the strain of 
the suspense. “ Uncle would recognize it, and turn 
this way. Then we could beckon to him, you 
know.” 

“ Wait, he’s turned away now, and it seems as 
though he meant to come out here looking for us ! ” 
Tom told her. “ There, he went back again to ask 
a last question, but it’s all right, and we’ll soon know 
the worst.” 

“ We must be brave, and not show him that we’re 
bothered, no matter what it may be, Tom,” the girl 
was thoughtful enough to say. “ You know uncle 
is not as strong as he might be, and subject to his 
bad spells, too. We’ve got to act as though nothing 
mattered much, and it would all come out right in 
the end.” 


70 Between the Lines in France 

“ You mean we’ll take a leaf from his ordinary 
way of acting, and lift the load off his mind? All 
right, you can count on me to do my level best.” 

“There, he’s turning away again, Tom; let’s 
move back to the table, and act just as if we hadn’t 
been peeping.” 

They had hardly reached the spot indicated when 
Uncle Alvin came hurriedly out of the door of the 
taproom. He glanced about as though not sure of 
their presence. 

“ Here we are, Uncle ! ” called Lucille, trying to 
keep her voice from betraying her excited condi- 
tion. 

At that the little old gentleman hastened toward 
them. The semi-darkness concealed his face so 
that they could not tell whether it showed unusually 
pale or not. 

“ I’ve got some bad news to give you, children,” 
he said, as he reached the others. “We must all 
leave here, perhaps this very night. They tell me 
Germany has declared war on Russia; and you know 
that will mean on France also. Even now the 
German army may be pouring over the French bor- 
der not thirty miles away.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


STRANDED IN THE SHADOW OF WAR 

“Then that means war all along the northern 
border of France? ” exclaimed Tom, who was fairly 
well posted on the facts, since he had heard con- 
siderable talk concerning the shadow on the peace of 
Europe. 

“ Yes, because the very first move of the Kaiser 
will be to rush a strong army down to take Paris, ,, 
Uncle Alvin told them. “The news came just a 
little while ago. This man says it is spreading all 
over the town. If you listen you can hear loud 
shouts even now. I have no doubt every one is 
rushing here and there, telling what new things they 
have learned, with the men getting ready to leave 
immediately for the places where their regiments 
mobilize.” 

Tom and Lucille were thrilled by what they had 
heard. They were of course much too young to 
understand what horrors would follow in the track 
of a war between such powerful nations as Ger- 
many, France, Austria, Russia and possibly Great 
Britain; but something of what it might mean to 
the peace-loving people in that country of Northern 
France filled them with pity. 

71 


72 Between the Lines in France 

Their own situation, however, must receive 
prompt attention. Tom proved that he could be 
depended on as an able assistant to Uncle Alvin 
in an emergency such as that which now faced 
them. 

“ Then we must get back to Paris as quickly as 
possible; that’s the only thing we can do, Uncle, 
isn’t it? ” he asked. 

“ I’m glad to see that you take it so coolly, my 
boy,” remarked the other, sensibly relieved of a part 
of his burden. “ Yes, that is our wisest move. Al- 
ready they say the Government, anticipating this 
sudden emergency, has taken possession of all the 
railways in the republic.” 

“ Then it’s lucky we don’t have to depend on the 
train to take us back to Paris,” Lucille remarked, 
thinking she must say something if only to show 
their Uncle Alvin that she did not mean to allow 
herself to be frightened, as many girls must surely 
have been under similar conditions. 

“ Yes, but even there we may be caught napping, 
and lose our car,” she was told. 

“ Why, how could that be, Uncle ? ” questioned 
the girl. 

“ The Government will commandeer every motor 
truck and automobile it can lay hands on,” he in- 
formed her. “ You know this is the day of gaso- 
line, or petrol as they call it over here ; and they say 
the German army has tens of thousands of motor 


Stranded in the Shadow of War 73 

trucks intended fo be used so as to carry their army 
ahead many times as fast as men could walk.” 

Tom started, and wondered whether after all that 
mysterious talk between Andre and the two strange 
men could have had any connection with the taking 
over of the car for the service of the army. 

Had those men wanted the chauffeur to run away 
with the automobile, acting under the authority of 
an order which may have already been posted at 
some public place in town? 

Things began to clear up, and Tom was seeing 
that after all Andre might have been protesting 
against treating his employer so scurvily so early in 
the game. 

“ Do you think we ought to start to-night, 
Uncle? ” asked Lucille, who evidently did not fancy 
such a move, though not for worlds would she try 
to put any obstacles in the way. 

“ It might be best, if you think you can stand the 
ride,” the old gentleman returned. 

“ Shucks! you know it would be just pie for me, 
Uncle!” observed Tom, disdainfully. 

“And there will be a pretty good-sized moon, 
too,” added Lucille, “ so don’t bother one minute 
worrying about me, Uncle. I rather like the idea 
of racing along over hills and through valleys at 
night, knowing as we do that perhaps before a great 
while these same hills will see a battle between Ger- 
man and French armies.” 


74 Between the Lines in France 

When Lucille said this she certainly did not dream 
how for long weeks, and even months, that same 
region would be harassed by the roar and destruc- 
tion of a conflict such as has never had its equal 
since the birth of the world; and how even that 
peaceful little town, with its churches and pictur- 
esque buildings, would be laid waste by a storm of 
bursting shells. 

“ Oh! thunder! ” exclaimed Tom; and there was 
such a note of sudden dismay in his voice that Lu- 
cille, accustomed to his ways, immediately cried out : 

“ Now you’ve just thought of something unpleas- 
ant, I know, Tom; what is it? ” 

“ Maybe we can’t get away after all, the more the 
pity! ” he replied dejectedly. 

“ But why? ” she asked him, bent on knowing the 
reason for his abrupt remark. 

Tom glanced uneasily toward Uncle Alvin. 

“ Go on and tell us,” said the little old gentleman, 
steadily ; “ we’re all in the same boat, and must share 
things in common. What do you know that would 
stall us up here in the danger zone, Tom? ” 

“ Why, hang the luck, you see, Uncle, our supply 
of gas is pretty nearly gone,” Tom informed them, 
with a grimace, and a shrug that he had of course 
picked up since landing in France, where it stands 
for so much. 

“ The petrol, you mean,” added Lucille ; “ why, 
I do remember Andre saying he’d have to look 


Stranded in the Shadow of War 75 

around for a fresh stock, if the keeper of the inn 
didn’t have any to sell. Oh ! Tom, perhaps that was 
why he went away with those two men ? ” 

“ I’m uneasy about our being able to get any,” 
Uncle Alvin told them. “ You see, they have 
stringent laws here, and as I understand it, the very 
minute the order for real mobilization is sent out 
all over the land certain things become Government 
property from that time.” 

“ You mean that even if we found any one hav- 
ing a supply of gasoline they might refuse to sell us 
five or ten gallons even, because they knew it be- 
longed to the Government ; is that it, Uncle ? ” asked 
Lucille, always very clear-headed in connection with 
such things. 

“ Yes,” continued the gentleman, “ and the first 
thing we ought to do, Tom, is to try and see where 
we can secure any sort of a supply. Even ten gal- 
lons would carry us a good many miles to the 
south.” 

“ And every mile would mean we’d be nearer 
safety, wouldn’t it ? ” Lucille observed. 

“ Then let’s get busy, all of us,” said Tom, with 
his accustomed energy. “ Lucille, will you look 
after our luggage, so it can be carried out to the 
car again? Even if Andre fails to show up, trust 
me for running the machine all right. I’m enough 
of a chauffeur for that, I hope.” 

“ First of all, to ask the innkeeper if he can let 


76 Between the Lines in France 

us have a small amount in our supply tank,” sug- 
gested Mr. Maillard, moving once more toward the 
door of the taproom. 

Tom followed at his heels, while the girl flitted 
away to the rooms they had expected to occupy 
during the night, to gather up their few belongings, 
and carry them to the porch, whence they could be 
easily loaded in the car, in case they were fortunate 
enough to be able to proceed. 

Tom stood and looked on as Uncle Alvin inter- 
rogated the landlord. The poor man realized that 
there was every possibility of his livelihood being 
destroyed by a German invasion, with all the hor- 
rors that this might imply. But the worst had 
apparently passed, and he was looking both resigned 
and resolute. Perhaps he too had a niche to fill in 
some army corps, and might later on be found on 
the firing line, striving to save his native land from 
the sword of the invader. 

But Tom knew before his uncle told him that 
their quest for a supply of petrol was vain so far 
as obtaining it at the inn was concerned. The 
landlord shook his head several times in the nega- 
tive. Evidently he sympathized with the Ameri- 
can tourists, but was helpless to aid them. 

“ We will have to see what we can do in the 
town,” the old gentleman said, as he rejoined Tom. 
“ They have none here, and gave me little hope 
that we could obtain even a gallon, for by now the 


Stranded in the Shadow of War 77 

news must have spread all over town, and the rules 
are very severe.” 

They had hardly set forth when it became evident 
to Tom that the startling news must have been car- 
ried from one end of the town to the other, so that 
every one knew war was a certainty. 

The boy had witnessed many lively scenes in his 
native land, on various occasions, some serious, 
others joyous; but he told himself that never before 
had he looked on such a picture of excitement as 
was breaking out all around him in that threatened 
town of Northern France. 

Men were running this way and that. Occasion- 
ally they would stop to exchange a few sentences 
with some one whom they met, only to speed on 
faster than ever. Women, too, could be seen in 
groups, chattering volubly, with white faces. Chil- 
dren were crying, frightened by the unusual clamor, 
dogs barked, and if a volcano close by had threat- 
ened an eruption it could not have created more of 
a panic. 

Already a number of men had hastily donned 
military uniforms and were upon the streets, stalk- 
ing proudly about as though deep down in their 
martial hearts they welcomed the coming of this 
hour when they could show themselves as heroes. 

The further Tom and Uncle Alvin went the more 
the clamor seemed to grow. It was as though 
Bedlam had broken loose. And to think that this 


78 Between the Lines in France 

same excitement must have gripped scores of towns 
and cities all over the frontier country, where the 
brunt of a German invasion must of necessity be 
first felt! 

No wonder a high-spirited boy like Tom Mail- 
lard felt his heart beat in sympathy with the cause 
that was so dear to these people. Just then, had he 
been given a chance, he would willingly have en- 
listed in the ranks of these people who were akin 
to his own ancestors. 

From the landlord of the inn Uncle Alvin had 
heard of a place where petrol was kept, to be sold 
to passing tourists. As this was a public stand, 
doubtless the proprietor would be one of the first 
to be ordered not to dispose of another drop of his 
precious fuel, so absolutely necessary for the mov- 
ing of the army that was to defend the frontier. 

Upon reaching his place they found that a sign 
was hanging from the small building over which the 
one word “ Petrol ” stood. 

“ What does it say, Uncle?” asked Tom anx- 
iously, although he could easily give a good guess 
without being told. 

“ We’ve come too late, I’m afraid,” replied the 
other, “ for he has announced that owing to mobi- 
lization having started he is unable to sell more 
petrol to any one, since every drop belongs to 
France, and the army.” 


Stranded in the Shadow of War 79 

“ That knocks out our plans, doesn’t it, Uncle ? ” 
complained Tom. 

“ The only chance we have,” continued Uncle 
Alvin, who did not give up easily, it appeared, “ is, 
as the landlord told me we might have to do — find 
some private individual who will spare us ten gal- 
lons from his own stock. I’m going now to look 
up a Monsieur Capon who lives in a house around 
the corner. He is said to be a good-natured gen- 
tleman, and perhaps he would spare enough to take 
us on our way.” 

Everywhere they could see men discussing the 
latest reports that seemed to be coming in from the 
north, many of them canards of course, but calcu- 
lated to add immeasurably to the excitement. 

“ I can’t believe it is possible,” said Uncle Alvin, 
as they hurried along ; “ but one man back there 
was telling the crowd he had it on the best author- 
ity that the Kaiser’s terrible army has already 
crossed over on to French soil!” 


CHAPTER IX 


ANDRE HEARS THE CALL TO DUTY 

“ Is this the house you meant, Uncle ?” asked 
Tom, as the older gentleman stopped before a 
building. 

“ Yes, it is here M. Capon lives/’ replied the 
other, as he headed for the door. 

“ How does he happen to have some petrol to 
spare? ” continued the boy. 

“ I was told by the innkeeper that he used to have 
a small car, which was smashed a few weeks back 
in an accident among the hills. The owner barely 
escaped with his life, and has vowed never to own 
such a vehicle again. It was thought by our host 
that he might have some petrol left over, which he 
would gladly give away, or dispose of.” 

He pulled the bell, and presently some one came 
around the side of the house. On Uncle Alvin 
making known his great need in his best French, 
Tom was keenly disappointed to see from the man- 
ner of the other that something was amiss. 

“ Come, there is no use staying any longer, Tom,” 
remarked the older tourist, after apparently thank- 
ing the owner of the house. “ M. Capon, too, is 
in something of a hurry to get into his uniform. 

80 


Andre Hears the Call to Duty 81 

He belongs to some local company, and every son 
of France is wild to don his red trousers and shoul- 
der his gun, now that the long-expected war is at 
hand.” 

“ But didn’t he have any gasoline left over, 
Uncle?” asked Tom, disappointed more than he 
would have liked to confess. 

“ He did until just a few minutes ago,” replied 
Uncle Alvin. “ We wasted time in going to the 
public square, and some one got ahead of us.” 

“ Oh ! that was too mean for anything ! ” 

“ Just about ten gallons in all, he told me, which 
would have fixed us up handsomely, I think,” con- 
tinued the old gentleman. “ He let this party have 
can and all.” 

“ And why are you hurrying so now, Uncle ? ” 

“ I want to try and overtake that man, to see if 
I can coax him to let me have that petrol for any 
amount of money. I stand willing to make it a 
record price for ten gallons of the stuff and will 
almost let him fix his own valuation on it, because 
we must have it.” 

Uncle Alvin so seldom showed signs of being 
deeply concerned that Tom was greatly impressed. 

“ I think,” said Tom, “ I glimpse him up ahead 
there; yes, he’s staggering along with a big can, 
which he could never carry if it were filled.” 

“ You’re right, Tom; I can see him. Yes, that’s 
surely our man. Put your best foot forward, and 


82 Between the Lines in France 

we’ll soon overtake him. Then let me do the bar- 
gaining, Tom.” 

“ I hope he acts sensibly, then, that’s all I can 
say,” muttered the boy, at the same time clinching 
his hands in a belligerent way, as though far from 
convinced that force ought not to be brought into 
play, if dickering failed to achieve the desired result. 

All at once Tom uttered a loud cry. 

“ Why, Uncle, would you believe it, that’s our 
Andre ! ” he exclaimed. 

“Do you really mean it, Tom?” the other de- 
manded, with a note of delight in his voice; “then 
he’s a jewel, indeed. He went after a supply of 
petrol when he first learned that war had broken 
out, for Andre knew how difficult it would be for 
us to obtain any by ourselves.” 

Things began to brighten up for Tom. The 
clouds that had seemed so gloomy before now- 
parted, to allow the light to shine through the rift. 

“ Hello ! there, Andre ! ” he called out. 

Immediately the bearer of the huge petrol can 
came to a halt, and discovering who had hailed him, 
awaited their coming. 

Tom fretted because he could not enter into the 
spirit of the brief though earnest talk that started 
between Uncle Alvin and the chauffeur. They 
were all the while moving steadily along, because 
Andre had immediately resumed his forward prog- 
ress while explaining his intentions. 


Andre Hears the Call to Duty 83 

Every once in so often Uncle Alvin would turn 
to Tom, and give him some idea concerning what 
the other was saying. 

“ Andre tells me as soon as he received word 
that the mobilization had been ordered he knew he 
would have to go north to a certain fortress, where 
his company has its station marked out, and where 
he can help man the big guns. But it pained him 
to think that he must desert an employer who had 
been so kind and indulgent to him; and especially 
when the petrol tank was empty, so that we would 
be left helpless here where danger lurked. Andre, 
you see, Tom, is a man of honor.” 

“ And I’m sorry now,” said Tom, with hasty 
repentance, “ that I ever thought he could plot 
against us. But please go on and tell me more, 
Uncle.” 

“ So when his friends urged him to throw up his 
position in order to obey his country’s call, Andre 
refused to go until he had at least made an effort 
to replenish our supply of fuel for the engine. 
When he has placed this ten gallons in the tank he 
says he must bid us adieu, much as he regrets the 
necessity.” 

“ Bully for Andre ! He’s all right ! I’ll always 
think of him as a loyal fellow. I take off my 
hat to him. But here we are near the inn, and 
there’s sis waiting on the porch, as anxious as can 
be.” 


84 Between the Lines in France 

He waved his hat to Lucille, who could just make 
them out in the moonlight. She hurried down, and 
was in time to see Andre pouring the precious sup- 
ply of gasoline into the tank. It was a small 
enough portion at that, but would take them a con- 
siderable distance, when they must rely once more 
on good fortune to replenish their tank. 

The first thing Lucille did was to give her brother 
a little jab with her elbow. Apparently a guilty 
conscience told Tom what she meant by this, if one 
could judge from what he said, knowing that Andre 
would not be able to understand the tenor of his 
language. 

“ Yes, that’s right, I was silly to doubt him, sis,” 
was what Tom admitted, for if capable of forming 
a suspicion on occasion, the boy would just as 
quickly take himself to task for making a mistake. 
“ He’s all wool, and a yard wide ; but for all that 
we’re going to lose him.” 

“ In what way? ” asked the startled girl. 

“ Same old story — Andre belongs to the rank 
and file of the Grand Army of France and must 
obey the mobilization summons right away. He 
can’t even start back with us, because his way is 
toward Mauberge, or Verdun, or some other forti- 
fied place near the border to the north. And so, 
after all, you’ll have to trust your precious selves 
to a greenhorn chauffeur.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear that,” said Lucille, quickly 


Andre Hears the Call to Duty 85 

adding: “ Of course I don’t mean I’m at all afraid 
about your not being able to drive the car as well 
as any one, Tom, because I’ve seen what you can 
do. But then he knows all the little turns and bad 
places among these rough hills.” 

“ Huh ! we ought to consider ourselves mighty 
lucky as it is,” Tom told her, after which he pro- 
ceeded to explain all about what was happening in 
the town, with the men crazy to get away to the 
front, the women bravely urging them on, and 
every living soul filled with patriotic ardor that 
could hardly be excelled. 

“ It’s just wonderful, sis,” he concluded, “ to see 
the way these poor people try to put on a brave face, 
while their hearts must be breaking. But there, 
Andre has finished putting our little stock of petrol 
in the tank. Now uncle is pressing his hand 
warmly; and you can depend on it there’s a nice 
roll of notes of the Bank of France going with that 
hearty handshake.” 

To Lucille, Andre could express himself. He 
took her extended hand, and bowed over it with all 
the grace of a dancing master Tom remembered at 
home. 

“It* breaks the heart to say adieu, young 
ma’mselle,” he told her, earnestly ; “ but we of the 
army must obey the call to duty. Even now they 
tell us the enemy is on the border. Soon here in 
this peaceful country war must reign. Some — 


86 Between the Lines in France 


many, will never see another summer; but there 
must be soldiers when there is war. And we all 
must die some time. So adieu! It is not permit- 
ted every one to do as he would wish. I therefore 
must fight, when I should be much happier driving 
your car.” 

After also shaking hands with Tom the chauffeur- 
artilleryman bowed again, and walked hastily away. 
Soon they saw him breaking into a run, so anxious 
was he to reach the station on the railway before a 
train that was waiting to receive the first detach- 
ment of troops pulled out for the north. 

Lucille sighed. This was the first time she had 
ever been so close to where the tide of human pas- 
sions ran like a millrace. In her own fair land war 
had been unknown for years, so that she knew noth- 
ing about what terrible things it brings in its train. 
But before Tom and his sister were allowed by a 
baffling fate to shake the dust of this disputed 
region from their shoes, they would be brought to 
realize many things that up to then they were only 
acquainted with through history. 

“ What now, Uncle?” asked Tom, alive to the 
fact that time counted for something when moment- 
ous events were happening so rapidly all around 
them. 

“If we leave here to-night, we might just as well 
start now as later,” the old gentleman replied, tight- 
ening his lips, as though making up his mind they 


Andre Hears the Call to Duty 87 

were in for a rough time, and must summon all 
their fortitude to meet the conditions bravely. 

“ Now I’m glad that I made all those notes as we 
came along,” Tom told them. “ You laughed at 
me, sis, and wanted to know what use they would 
ever be to me. I told you I didn’t know, because 
we had no idea of returning that way again, but 
ever since I became a Boy Scout I have had it im- 
pressed on my mind to observe things as I went 
along. It strengthens the memory, and you never 
know when you may need the knowledge you pick 
up.” 

“ I don’t suppose we had better take the chance 
of staying over here until morning, Uncle?” quer- 
ied Lucille. 

“ That was what I asked Andre,” she was told. 

“ And what did he say, Uncle ? ” 

“Of course it would be much safer for us to 
negotiate the hilly country in the daytime, because 
there are some bad places, you remember,” Uncle 
Alvin replied ; “ but when Andre told me we would 
run a great risk of having the car seized, and com- 
mandeered for army purposes if we stayed here 
until morning, I figured that we’d be showing poor 
judgment in delaying.” 

“That means we’ll make the start, does it?” 
asked Tom, ready to hurry over to where he had 
secreted the essential part of the engine, at the time 
he feared Andre might have been unfaithful. 


88 Between the Lines in France 

“ All right, let’s call it settled, and make up our 
minds.” Uncle Alvin set his teeth hard together 
when saying this, because for good or evil he knew 
their path would be mapped out, and there could 
be no holding back. 

It did not take Tom long to adjust the engine so 
that it responded to his demand when he used the 
self-starter. Uncle Alvin had gone to the inn, say- 
ing he would return as soon as he had settled his 
bill. 

“ I’ll get everything aboard in the meantime,” 
Tom called out, “ so we can start off the minute 
you get back. We don’t want to give these people 
any chance to hold up our car, if we can help it. 
Get aboard, sis, and arrange things as I hand them 
to you. And here’s hoping all goes well, so that 
we’ll turn up safe and sound in Paris before a great 
many hours ! ” 


CHAPTER X 


AN ACCIDENT ON THE ROAD 

It did not take long for these matters to be car- 
ried out. Lucille fairly flew to snatch up a bundle 
of rugs before taking her place in the car. She 
was full of enthusiasm, and ready to do her part in 
the flitting. 

As for Tom, this chance to pilot the expedition 
along the roads of Northern France by night was 
“ just pie ” to him, as he called it in his boyish 
fashion. He loved to handle the wheel of a power- 
ful car, and had gained the reputation of being a 
bold as well as a careful driver. 

Uncle Alvin soon settled their account with the 
innkeeper. He reported that the latter was “ over- 
whelmed with grief ” because his guests were all 
fleeing from the shelter of his hospitable roof. 

“ Not that the good man blames any of us,” 
Uncle Alvin added, hastily, for he would not know- 
ingly do any one a wrong, “ because he understands 
how unfortunate it would be for even noncombat- 
ants like Americans to be caught between the lines 
of hostile armies. And as for those commercial 
travelers, there is not one of them but is fairly wild 
to reach the town where his regiment will mobilize.” 
89 


90 Between the Lines in France 

“ I guess we’re all ready now, Uncle ! ” sang out 
Tom, trying to appear as gay as though they were 
bound on a little jaunt, perhaps out to some country 
place where the young people were giving a moon- 
light barn dance, instead of fleeing from the terrors 
of a world war. 

Tom had the front seat to himself now, though 
Lucille hinted that she would be only too glad to 
share it with him, but did not think it kind to leave 
Uncle Alvin alone in the capacious body of the big 
touring car. 

Their robes and such luggage as they carried had 
been neatly stowed away, for Lucille knew just how 
to go about anything like that. Her deft hands had 
a knack of disposing of things in a way that Tom 
thought wonderful, for in his clumsy boyish fashion 
no doubt he would have simply tossed everything 
in, and be glad to “ wash his hands of the business.” 

“ Good-by, old inn ! ” said Lucille, as she turned 
and waved her hand, after Tom had started the car 
along. “ We expected a different ending to our 
visit here, and a good night’s sleep, but nobody’s 
complaining that I can hear. We’re going to take 
things as they come, eh, Uncle?” 

“ I suppose we’ll have to, dear,” replied the old 
gentleman, “ and I want to tell you right now that 
it’s a great comfort to me to see how cheerfully you 
accept the bad with the good. I always did say 


An Accident on the Road 91 

you had the stuff for a heroine in you, Lucille, and 
Tom will bear me out in that.” 

“ Listen to all the strange sounds in the town ; 
isn’t it remarkable how different things seem from 
when we arrived, when it was all so peaceful ? ” 
In this way did Lucille manage to turn the conver- 
sation to another subject than herself. 

“ Everybody is fairly crazy,” said Mr. Maillard, 
soberly. “ They have often talked of this day as 
the years passed, and now that it’s actually burst 
on them do you wonder that they’re excited ? They 
do not realize, poor things, all it must mean for 
them soon — the desolated homes, the vacant chairs, 
the broken hearts! Now it is all excitement, and 
glory, and revenge upon the Prussians who took 
away their fair provinces of Alsace and Lorraine.” 

They were making their way slowly through the 
town while talking in this manner. Tom was very 
careful in handling his car. He even drew up 
hastily to avoid running over a little yellow dog 
that had incautiously frisked in the way; indeed, if 
it had been a child he could hardly have shown more 
tenderness of heart, for Tom loved dogs even more 
than most boys do. 

The car was a good one, as most of those made 
in France are. It moved along with very little 
noise, so that it kept Tom busy from time to time 
sounding his warning horn. 


92 Between the Lines in France 

Presently they would be on the outskirts of the 
town, beyond the view of the cathedral towers. 
Then he expected to pick up more speed, since the 
road would be freer from obstructions. 

“ What do you suppose all that whistling can be ; 
it sounds as though baby engines were making sig- 
nals ? ” Lucille presently asked. 

“ Those are the motors on the railway,” Uncle 
Alvin informed her. “ You must know that over 
here they will not tolerate the ear-splitting whis- 
tles that you can hear on most railroads in the 
States. From the continual rumbling, as well as 
the wild shouting in that section, I should say that 
troop trains are already passing through, headed 
for the northern fortresses.” 

“ Whew ! then they must have had the soldiers 
quartered in the cars, and waiting for the word to 
come,” hazarded Tom, “ because mighty little time 
has passed since the news was sent along the line 
that Germany had declared war on Russia.” 

“ This is only a beginning,” Uncle Alvin in- 
formed them. “ It will take hundreds and hun- 
dreds of trains to fetch an army, with all its muni- 
tions of war, to the threatened border. And if we 
could see what is going on over in Germany, with 
her network of military railways, we would be 
appalled at its magnitude, I imagine.” 

Now they were beyond the town limits, and their 
pace increased. The road was in fine condition, 


An Accident on the Road 93 

though Tom knew that before long they were apt 
to come upon sections where the same could hardly 
be said. This was on account of the fact that the 
country became hilly, and abrupt ascents and de- 
scents had to be covered, with many sharp turns, 
where a miscalculation might spell trouble for un- 
wary travelers. 

Most of the noise died out as they left the town 
behind them. There seemed to be no end, how- 
ever, to the rumble of moving trains, now near, and 
again more distant. The railways were busy trans- 
porting thousands of French soldiers in their baggy 
red trousers, and with knapsacks and arms, toward 
the north, (See Note 2.) 

Just as Uncle Alvin had told them, from that 
hour travel south was virtually suspended, and no 
amount of money could have induced the authori- 
ties to start a train in that direction, which would 
conflict with the influx of troops. 

“ I’m afraid that moon is going to disappoint us 
after all,” Lucille remarked, after they had covered 
a number of miles, and everything seemed to be 
working as smoothly as clockwork. 

“ The moon’s all right, sis,” Tom told her, laugh- 
ingly; i( put the blame where it belongs. That 
bank of clouds was hovering low on the horizon at 
sunset, and made a mighty fine picture; but now 
they’ve taken a notion to climb up, and soon we’ll 
lose our lantern up there in the sky.” 


94 Between the Lines in France 

“ It’s a good thing we have the lamps going,” 
Uncle Alvin observed. 

“ Even they don’t work to please me,” com- 
plained Tom. “ If I’d known about it before I 
could have fixed them in a little while, I reckon. 
You see, we haven’t had any occasion to use lamps 
up to now.” 

“ That’s because we’ve done no night riding,” 
Lucille added. “ We laid out a schedule that was 
easy to follow, and arrived at the places where we 
meant to spend the night before evening came on. 
But they’ll give you enough light to see the road 
by, won’t they, Tom?” 

“ Sure they will,” the other replied, with his 
customary cheeriness, “ and if all other people who 
are using the road will be as careful as I expect 
to be, there’s no reason to expect that we’ll have 
any trouble.” 

“ We seem to be coming to the hilly country 
again, Tom,” remarked Lucille, five minutes after- 
wards. 

“ Yes, I know it, sis, and I remember only too 
well that around here we’re going to meet up with 
some bad turns, after we get to climbing. I only 
hope we don’t have the hard luck to run across a 
car coming swinging down-grade on us when we’re 
negotiating one of the sharp curves.” 

“ Oh ! I remember one that Andre said had been 
the scene of a terrible accident only last spring ! ” 


An Accident on the Road 95 

exclaimed the girl, uneasily. “ A party of Ameri- 
cans lost control of their car, and in making that 
turn while flying down the grade it tipped over, 
then it smashed through the heavy guard fence, 
and they were all killed. It made me shudder just 
to look down at that precipice; and I’ll breathe 
much easier after we get safely past it.” 

“ I had to smile,” Uncle Alvin ventured to say, 
“ when Andre casually mentioned that the chauffeur 
of that runaway car was an American whom the 
party had brought over from our side. If you 
read between the lines he meant us to observe that 
a French driver would never have allowed his car 
to get away from him on any grade.” 

They were now ascending the hill, and the engine 
seemed to be standing by its reputation, for Tom 
had no trouble. 

“ There’s no use talking,” he exclaimed, with 
the enthusiasm a driver always feels when his 
machine shows itself capable, and up to expecta- 
tion, “these French mechanics know how to build 
a car that will meet every requirement. Listen to 
that engine purr as sweetly as you please. It does 
the work every time, and makes so little fuss over 
it you’d think it was next to nothing.” 

“ And yet this is a fairly steep hill, if I am any 
judge,” Uncle Alvin observed. Lucille had become 
strangely quiet. Tom knew what was in her 
thoughts, for they were approaching the dangerous 


96 Between the Lines in France 

section of the climb, when several bad turns in the 
road must be surmounted. 

It was by now fairly dark around them, thanks 
to the heavy clouds that had moved across the face 
of the moon, high up in the heavens. Tom paid 
strict attention to his business. This was no time 
for thinking of anything else. He hugged the in- 
ner side of the road, because that was his proper 
place; and should they have the hard luck to meet 
a descending vehicle or car, it must keep to the 
right, otherwise the outside. 

Lucille was straining her hearing. She hoped 
to be thus able to detect in advance whether any 
car might be descending the hills, so as to tell Tom 
in time for him to sound his horn in warning. 

The lamps were certainly all that Tom called 
them, for they gave a wretched illumination. Tom 
had good eyesight, however, and could see the 
road ahead plainly, though to Uncle Alvin it was 
far from clear. 

Perhaps the words spoken by Lucille had worked 
on the nerves of the old gentleman, for he clutched 
the side of the seat nearest him, and acted as though 
he too would be very thankful when they had suc- 
ceeded in surmounting the difficulties now about 
to beset their way. 

Once or twice the girl felt a thrill as she fancied 
she heard some suspicious sound in advance, such 


An Accident on the Road 97 

as might be caused by a coasting car coming at a 
swift pace down the changing grade. 

Their own engine made so much noise at this 
stage, being hard pushed, that it was next to im- 
possible to determine whether her ears had deceived 
her or not. Of course there was nothing to be 
done, since Tom dared not bring his charge to a 
halt in that exposed place. 

Lucille sighed with temporary relief when they 
reached a little plateau where the grade became 
more moderate. Of course it was only for a brief 
period, when they must expect to start upon the 
second climb, no less strenuous than that which 
had just been accomplished. 

Had Tom only thought to stop for a minute while 
upon this more level stretch it might have made a 
vast difference in their fortunes; but he felt that 
the quicker they attacked that next hill the sooner 
their troubles would be over. So it was straight 
on with Tom, his speed increasing so as to get a 
good start for the arduous climb, as is natural to 
all pilots. 

Lucille looked back. They were now at such a 
height that in the day-time, as she remembered, a 
magnificent view would be spread out, with the 
town they had left in the rear looking like a gem in 
the midst of the green foliage, its cathedral spire 
standing up prominently — as afterwards happened, 


98 Between the Lines in France 

making a range-finder for the German gunners on 
many an occasion. 

Now all she could see were scattered lights, that 
may have sprung from cottages, or be ranged along 
the line of railway. 

They could constantly hear the rumble of those 
endless trains moving in the one direction, and 
bearing the crowds of cheering troops. 

Lucille, being young, felt only the excitement of 
all this. Uncle Alvin, as an old and experienced 
traveler, could look further, and realize how it must 
be but the froth on the surface of the stream; 
underneath would lie the cruel rocks, the pitiless 
maelstrom which would suck in thousands upon 
thousands of lives before the end came. 

The next ascent was now before them. Tom 
was prepared to start up boldly, under the belief 
that it would soon be over, when they could con- 
gratulate themselves in having reached the apex 
of the ridge. After that would come a descent 
more gradual, then level roads for a long distance. 

“ There’s a turn first, Tom, you remember,” 
warned Lucille. 

“ Yes, I know,” the pilot answered, without taking 
his eyes off the road for a second, dimly seen as it 
was. “ I bet you I fix those lamps so they’ll dazzle 
any one. It’s too bad to have things so badly pre- 
pared that when you want them most — ” 

Just then Lucille gripped his arm convulsively. 



And then came a shock that upset them all into the 
roadway. 





An Accident on the Road 99 

“ Tom, oh ! Tom, the horn ! There’s a car coming 
down the grade, and without lights, too. Hurry, 
oh! hurry, Tom!” 

He did everything that was possible to avoid a 
collision. Like a flash his hand swerved the car 
to the extreme right of the road, which unfor- 
tunately was exceedingly narrow just there. And 
the other one sounded the automobile horn with 
furious blasts that pierced the night air. 

They could hear startled voices of men ahead 
of them. Lucille fairly held her breath with alarm, 
though she sat perfectly rigid, which in fact was 
the wisest thing the girl could have done. There 
was only one side toward which she might have 
jumped, and that would take her directly in the 
path of the oncoming car. 

They heard the rush of the other motor. No 
doubt the driver was doing all in his power to bring 
it to a halt. This was a fortunate thing as it turned 
out, for had it struck Tom’s car when going at a 
furious pace the result must have been serious in- 
deed. 

As it was they saw a black object suddenly loom 
up in front, heard a number of excited Frenchmen 
shouting, and then came a shock that upset them all 
into the roadway. 


CHAPTER XI 


HELD UP 

“Tom, oh! Tom, where are you?” 

In her great distress of mind Lucille’s first 
thought concerned the brother she loved so well, 
rather than herself. To her joy she immediately 
caught Tom’s cheery voice answering her, from 
some place nearby. 

“ I’m all right, I guess, sis ; and I hope you’re 
not hurt? ” 

“ No, no, nothing to speak of. But where is 
uncle ? ” 

The car had been partly overturned by the force 
of the collision. Some of the men who occupied 
the other automobile had been spilled out upon the 
road also, and may have received minor injuries. 
Their first thought, for they were Frenchmen, was 
in connection with those whom their recklessness 
had imperiled. 

It was not actually dark, so that Tom, as he 
scrambled to his knees and felt to ascertain if he 
had received anything more than a few scratches 
and bruises, could make out that all of the men, at 
least seven in number, were garbed in the uniforms 
of officers of the French Army. 

ioo 


IOI 


Held Up 

From this he knew that they had been dashing 
furiously forward in the hope of making connec- 
tion with a certain train in the town that lay miles 
away. 

They immediately started to apologize, at least 
Tom imagined this was the burden of what they 
were saying, as they assisted him to rise, others 
having hastened to help Lucille. 

“ Ask them to look after Uncle Alvin, sis ! ” 
Tom called out, for the fact that he had not heard 
a single word from the old gentleman thus far 
began to fill him with dread. 

“ We have found him, Tom ,” the girl almost 
immediately said, “ and he seems to be badly hurt ! ” 

Some of the officers had already righted the 
partly upset car. Their own had apparently escaped 
without any serious damage, for the engine was 
still purring, while Tom’s was silent, for he had 
shut off the power instinctively, just before they 
were run down. 

With a match in his trembling hand Tom suc- 
ceeded in lighting one of the lamps; the other 
having been put out of commission entirely. When 
an accident occurs it is of prime importance that 
some idea of its extent be learned without delay, 
and therefore Tom was doing the wisest thing he 
could have hit upon. 

When the light shone it revealed the fact that 
Uncle Alvin was coming to his senses. The French 


102 Between the Lines in France 


officers were as attentive as they could well be, 
under the circumstances. They tried to express 
their regret to Lucille, who spoke their language, 
that their extreme haste had had such a disastrous 
consequence. 

“ He has a broken arm,” Lucille announced in a 
low tone, not wishing to have the victim of the col- 
lision overhear what she said ; “ but the worst of it, 
as we know, is the shock to his whole system.” 

“ How far do they say it is to the next town ? ” 
asked Tom. “ I ought to know, but seems as if 
this thing had knocked me silly, so that I can’t 
remember things.” 

“ Listen, Tom,” the girl told him, quietly, for she 
realized that he had received a pretty rough shaking 
up when thrown so far upon the hard road ; “ the 
town is not more than five miles off, and in the val- 
ley, and best of all, the captain tells me there is a 
good hospital, where uncle can be well taken care 
of.” 

“ Whew ! that is lucky for us,” muttered Tom, 
“ because I’d hate to think of having him suffer any 
more than is necessary. We may have to spend a 
long time there, if he isn’t fit to travel; or the mili- 
tary authorities swipe our car, as Andre was afraid 
would happen.” 

The French officers carried Uncle Alvin to the 
nest Lucille hastily made for him with the robes. 
He had recovered his senses by now, and bravely 


Held Up 103 

repressed any sign of suffering. Indeed, Uncle Al- 
vin was apparently the most unconcerned of them 
all, and chatted with the officers just as though he 
did not have to shut his teeth very hard from time 
to time to keep from groaning. 

“ I think we ought to be thankful it was no 
worse, my dears,” he told Tom and his sister. “If 
it was one of you, now, how grieved I should have 
been ! Nothing much matters when you’re my age. 
My life is in the past, while yours is mostly in the 
future, which makes all the difference in the world.” 

There being nothing more they could do to show 
their regret, and time being of the utmost value, 
as their patriotism urged them forward, the half- 
dozen and more valiant warriors bade them adieu, 
and sped away. 

This left the Maillard party to continue on up 
the hill, and then make for the nearest town, where 
the hospital was situated. 

Lucille expressed herself as pleased when the 
dangerous curve was passed in safety. She had 
held her breath while they turned it. 

“ I only wonder how that other car coming down 
ever managed to get around without an accident?” 
she remarked, when the danger zone had been placed 
behind them. 

“ Oh ! most likely the man at the wheel was 
raised in this part of the country, and knows every 
foot of the road,” Tom told her. “ But I call it 


104 Between the Lines in France 

next door to a crime for any one to travel over 
country roads like these at night, with not a lamp 
to show strangers they are coming.” 

“ They explained that to me,” Lucille hastened 
to say. “ You see, this was not their first accident 
to-night. An hour ago they struck a limb that had 
broken from a tree, and it smashed both their 
lamps.” 

“Oh! if that’s a fact of course there was some 
excuse,” Tom continued, slightly mollified; “but 
they might have sounded their horn once in a while 
when coming down that steep grade. It would 
have warned us to reply, and all this trouble might 
have been avoided.” 

“ Yes,” said Uncle Alvin, not to be deterred from 
joining in the conversation by such a little thing as 
a fractured arm, “ there’s an old saying, you re- 
member, to the effect that all of us would find it 
easy to get on if only our foresight was as good 
as our hindsight. We can see how things might 
have been different, after they’ve happened.” 

“ How are you feeling, Uncle ? ” asked Lucille, 
solicitously. 

“ As well as could be expected of an old fellow 
whose bones are getting so brittle that they play all 
manner of tricks with him,” he told her. 

“ But you must be suffering,” Lucille continued, 
laying a cool hand on his brow, which Uncle Alvin 


Held Up 105 

immediately clasped, and pressed against his lips, 
for Lucille was very dear to him. 

“Oh! only a little now,” he assured her, and if 
he stretched the truth it was only with the intention 
of sparing her needless mental pain ; “ you know, 
when you get hurt pretty badly there’s often a mer- 
ciful numbness sets in right away that helps you 
stand it. That’s Nature’s assistance. The worst 
is yet to come, when the doctor sets that arm. But 
I’m thankful it wasn’t either of you.” 

Uncle Alvin was always thinking of others, 
which was doubtless why every one seemed to love 
the little old gentleman. 

“ Good ! there comes the moon out again ! ” ex- 
claimed Tom, whose eyes were becoming strained 
by his efforts to discern the road ahead. 

“If it had only stayed out all the while we might 
have avoided that accident, because we’d have made 
better time,” Lucille observed. 

“ I wouldn’t say that, girlie,” Uncle Alvin told 
her ; “ always look on the bright side of things. 
No matter what happens, it might have been worse. 
Suppose we had the benefit of the moon, don’t you 
know we might have arrived at that terrible bend 
when the other car struck us? We mustn’t com- 
plain, or find fault, but take things as they come.” 

Lucille said nothing more, for in her heart she 
realized that Uncle Alvin was right. 


io6 Between the Lines in France 

Tom was secretly apprehensive about the condi- 
tion of the patient. It may not mean a great deal 
for a healthy lad to break his arm, since the bone 
knits quickly; but with a man considerably over 
sixty the case is quite different. 

Then again, it could not be told what the effect 
of this shock would be upon the old gentleman’s 
system. He was subject to strokes of some kind, 
which would indicate that his health was breaking 
down, for Uncle Alvin had led an exceedingly ac- 
tive life, and suffered many privations in his time. 

Until the patient had had a thorough examination 
at the hands of a physician Tom would not be free 
from anxiety. He tried to look the matter calmly 
in the face as he sat there, sending the car on with 
considerable speed, now that the road was better. 
They must make up their minds to stay at the hos- 
pital, or close by, for an indefinite period, until the 
injured man was in a condition to travel. 

“ I can see the town now, Tom,” announced Lu- 
cille, cheerfully. 

“ Yes, we’ll be there in a jiffy,” he told her; “ and 
after we do get in, you must find out where the 
hospital is, because you know I can’t parley-voo 
worth a cent.” 

“ I’m glad girls can be of some use,” said Lucille; 
at which Uncle Alvin squeezed the little hand he 
was holding, and hastened to say : 

“ The world could never exist without girls. 


Held Up 107 

Tom knows it as well as I do, if I have lived to 
be an old bachelor, much to my regret. But unless 
I miss my guess that building ahead is likely to be 
the one we’re looking for, children.” 

Uncle Alvin proved to be right, for upon Lucille 
hailing a man who was passing along, dressed in 
his military clothes, and evidently hastening to a 
rendezvous, to make inquiries, he told her politely 
it was the hospital they were approaching. 

Ten minutes afterwards Uncle Alvin had been 
carefully carried in on a stretcher, by two attend- 
ants. He would be examined and the result soon 
known. 

Meanwhile Tom and his sister waited in the of- 
fice, and counted the minutes that must elapse 
before the examination would be finished. 

“ This is a tough ending to our fine vacation 
tour, I must say,” Tom grumbled, as he strode up 
and down, being too nervous to sit still. 

“ Yes, that’s so,” Lucille replied, “ but if only 
uncle gets over his injuries I’m not going to com- 
plain.” 

“I guess you’re about right, sis, as you nearly 
always are,” Tom admitted. “ It’s a shame for me 
to growl, when I got off with hardly a scratch. 
But I wish they’d hurry up. Seems like a terrible 
long time since they took him into the operating 
room.” 

“ I think they’ll set his arm while they have him 


io8 Between the Lines in France 


there,” she told him, “ and get it all over with. I 
own up that I’m shivering right now, for fear some- 
thing is going to happen.” 

“ And that isn’t like you, either, sis,” Tom de- 
clared, stopping to lay his hand caressingly on her 
shoulder, for they were more like chums than 
brother and sister. “ I guess you’ve got a case of 
nerves from that shock, and I don’t blame you a 
bit. Gee! it made me feel creepy all over when 
I saw that car jump into sight like a big black barn, 
and felt the crack as it struck us.” 

“Oh! Tom, I think they’re coming out now!” 
suddenly said Lucille, and Tom could see that the 
color had forsaken her usually rosy cheeks. 

The hospital doctor approached them. Tom 
tried to tell from his face whether he was bringing 
them good or bad news ; but he found that the man 
of medicine was so in the habit of masking his feel- 
ings that this was utterly out of the question. 

It was a different matter with Lucille, however. 
As soon as she had asked several questions in a 
trembling voice her eyes began to sparkle, and the 
red to return to her cheeks ; all of which told Tom 
that the news must have been at least fairly favor- 
able. 

As the doctor walked quickly away again, Lucille 
turned on her brother. 

“ It’s favorable, then, sis ? ” asked Tom. 


Held Up 109 

“ Oh ! yes, yes, I am so glad to tell you, Tom,” 
she declared, almost shedding tears. 

“ Uncle will live, he told you, did he? ” continued 
the boy, feeling a vast relief on account of the good 
news. 

“ He says there is every chance of his pulling 
through,” continued Lucille, gravely; “ but, Tom, 
it would be dangerous to move him. It’s partly 
owing to his condition, for you know yourself uncle 
is far from a well man. The doctor says he must 
remain here for some weeks at least.” 

“ Whew ! and what will we be doing all that 
time? ” 

“ We can find a place to board nearby, he told 
me, and be with uncle every day. There are plenty 
of interesting walks all around the town, if we want 
exercise. He did hint at the possibility of the war 
finding us here, though no one can say as to that, 
because it’s too early. If the Germans do invade 
France they may come through here, and again they 
may pass around.” 

“ Let’s hope it’ll be the last way, then,” said Tom, 
“ because we’d be up against it good and hard if 
we got caught in the midst of such fierce fighting 
as these two armies will do, when they get hammer- 
ing at each other. Oh! well,. I’m so glad to know 
uncle may pull through, that I’ll try and not com- 
plain.” 


iio Between the Lines in France 

It was evident to Lucille, knowing her brother 
as she did, that this tame way of spending his va- 
cation abroad was quite disheartening to Tom. 
They might have done almost as well in their far- 
distant American home. 

While talking over the situation, trying to cheer 
each other up, neither could foresee what remark- 
able happenings were in store for them, a little later 
on, when a ring of iron would surround that little 
town in the French hills, and the roar of battle 
rend the atmosphere with sledge-hammer blows. 


t 


CHAPTER XII 


CAUGHT LIKE RATS IN A TRAP 

“ I’ve just had a little talk with young Doctor 
Jacques, the only surgeon left here these days, Tom; 
and he says there’s no reason why Uncle Alvin 
could not take a journey. I’ll be happy when we 
start out for Paris again.” 

When Lucille said this to her brother weeks had 
passed since their arrival at the hospital in that 
town of Northern France. 

Day after day they had waited, at first with con- 
siderable anxiety, fearing that an unfavorable turn 
would come in the illness of the injured one. Then 
by slow degrees the broken bone began to knit, and 
Uncle Alvin was so well looked after that he quickly 
began to improve. 

The time of weary waiting Tom and Lucille had 
passed in various ways. They could not read, be- 
cause nothing reached the town of consequence save 
an occasional newspaper from the capital; so Lucille 
improved her French by talking with the doctor, 
or the Red Cross nurses, or any one she happened 
to meet in their long walks. 

They knew something about the course of events 
outside that peaceful haven. Especially had they 
hi 


f 


1 12 Between the Lines in France 

learned that the mighty army of the Kaiser had 
swept past like a tidal wave, pushing all resistance 
aside. 

Later had come the distressing news that the in- 
vading force was before Paris, which had prepared 
for another siege. Then came a day of thrilling 
joy to the people of that French town, when the 
word was flashed to them that von Kluck’s army 
had been defeated by the Allies in a fiercely con- 
tested battle on the Marne. (See Note 3.) 

Even then it was mostly all a blank, for no one 
knew what would happen next. In their retreat 
toward the border it was possible that this host of 
incensed invaders might cover the entire territory, 
so as to hold the enemy in check. This move 
would mean disaster to every town north of the 
River Aisne; for when a battle is raging between 
armies even churches are not always respected, and 
the humble homes of the people are utterly de- 
stroyed. 

It was just at this momentous period in the mak- 
ing of history that Lucille came to her brother as 
he was sitting on the edge of the porch, and related 
what the surgeon had told her. 

This young medical man was the only doctor left 
in the hospital now ; for with the increasing fury of 
the war both the older ones had been called to the 
front, where their services would be in urgent de- 
mand. 


Caught Like Rats in a Trap 113 

Somehow Tom Maillard did not appear to show 
as much animation as Lucille had expected, on the 
receipt of her joyous intelligence. She was used to 
reading his face, and immediately jumped to a con- 
clusion. 

“ You're keeping something from me, Tom, you 
know you are ! ” she exclaimed, with a tone of re- 
proach in her voice. 

Tom gave a nervous laugh. 

“ Well, I suppose it’s got to come out, sooner or 
later, Lucille,” he told her. 

“ Something has happened, then ? ” the girl con- 
tinued, beginning to look somewhat worried, for 
these long weeks of waiting were trying to even her 
well balanced nerves. 

“Oh! I wouldn’t call it that!” said Tom, with 
a shrug of his shoulders. “ I guess uncle must 
have expected they’d take it, from things he let fall, 
and so I had to tell him; but he thought there was 
no need of bothering you about it right then.” 

“Is it about our car, Tom?” she asked him, 
quickly. 

“ Yes, that’s what it is.” 

“ You mean they’ve taken it from us? ” 

He nodded his head in the affirmative, though 
trying to smile, and look as if it did not matter a 
great deal. 

“When did it happen, Tom?” was her next 
question. 


1 14 Between the Lines in France 

“ I guess about the fourth day after we got here,” 
Tom explained. “ You know I told you I thought 
I’d better hide it out there in the barn, by scatter- 
ing some hay over it? Well, some one must have 
told, for while you were in with uncle one day, an 
officer and two privates came to me, and being able 
to speak English fairly well, demanded that I turn 
over the car for the use of France.” 

“ Of course you had to do it; you couldn’t save 
the car, could you, Tom?” Lucille continued, her 
white teeth pressed hard together in a way that 
seemed to say had she been there she would have 
tried to defy the order, no matter if it was backed 
by the whole force of the French Government. 

“ Sure I did,” he told her. “ They knew where 
it was, and I saw I might as well throw up the 
sponge gracefully. Well, the officer had the polite- 
ness to thank me for lending the car to France, at 
a time when she needed all the help possible, and 
he acted as if he was sorry to have to strip us of 
our means of getting away from here with uncle. 
I kind of liked that fellow, he was so nice about 
it.” 

“ But that looks like next door to robbery, Tom, 
to take our car away from us,” Lucille protested, 
still indignant. 

“ Oh ! it was a case of military necessity, I guess. 
See, he gave me this little printed slip, filled out and 
signed. After the war is over the owner of the 


Caught Like Rats in a Trap 115 

car can present this ta the Government at Paris, if 
there is any such place then, and collect damages for 
having his car commandeered. ,, 

Lucille took it pretty hard, nevertheless. 

“ It was a mean shame, and you can’t convince 
me to the contrary, Tom,” she told him, after 
glancing contemptuously at the paper he exhibited. 
“ What good does that do us ? It can’t help get 
uncle away from here. I’m beginning to detest the 
whole place, after being kept here so long. It 
makes me feel as if we were in prison.” 

“ That’s hardly fair talk,” Tom told her. “ On 
the whole I think we’ve had a pretty decent time of 
it, what with our long walks, and the fun we had 
with our signal system. Why, you’ve learned to be 
a first-class operator with the wigwag code. That 
last message you flagged me with your handkerchief 
was as clean as a whistle; not a single letter out of 
the way, and rapid-fire work, too.” 

Lucille deigned to smile, just a little. 

“ Thank you for saying that, Tom,” she told him. 
“ I always did want to learn that signal work. And 
you know, some time or other in case we got sepa- 
rated while taking a long walk I expected it might 
come in handy. I always carry a small pocket mir- 
ror with me, and if the sun is shining I can talk 
with you in the helio code, too.” 

“ Have you heard any later news about the 
war ? ” Tom asked, for he was compelled to depend 


1 1 6 Between the Lines in France 

almost wholly on Lucille to pick up such informa- 
tion as drifted into the isolated town. 

“ Doctor Jacques says all they know is that the 
Germans have overrun Belgium; the Russians are 
fighting hard in Eastern Prussia, and the army of 
invasion, having turned back from Paris, is retreat- 
ing right along, fighting rear-guard actions, and 
holding the French and British back. ,, 

“ IPs terrible to be shut up here away from the 
world, you might say, and not be able to read the 
news every morning,” grumbled the boy. 

“ Oh ! that isn’t what worries me the most ! ” Lu- 
cille declared. “If I never read a single word of 
all the terrible fighting I’d be happy. But think of 
what a pickle we’re in here, having uncle on our 
hands, and no way of getting out.” 

“ Yes,” pursued Tom seriously, a wrinkle appear- 
ing across his usually smooth forehead, “ I’ve been 
bothering my brains about that, all right. The Ger- 
mans may slip past us, and then try to hold the hills 
over there against the Allies. That would put 
this poor town part-way between the lines, and it 
would be smashed to flinders, once their guns got 
busy.” 

“ We mustn’t be here when that happens, Tom, 
it would be too terrible.” 

“ Given half a chance, we’ll skip out, all right,” 
he assured her. “ What else did the young doc. tell 
you?” 


Caught Like Rats in a Trap 117 

“ He said he was anxious to go to join his chief 
at the front, but only half an hour ago he received 
a message telling him under no conditions to leave 
here, and to do everything possible to prepare for 
a big rush of patients ! ” 

“ That looks as though they expected a battle 
nearby,” muttered Tom, as his eyes turned toward 
the hills which were so soon fated to become 
famous in the history of the great war. 

“ See what he gave me to fasten on my sleeve,” 
continued Lucille, proudly. 

“ Why, it’s a Red Cross badge, sure enough ! ” 
exclaimed Tom, “ and let me tell you Doctor Jacques 
showed a lot of horse sense when he presented you 
with that. I always said you had the making of 
a nervy little nurse, and he knows it. Hasn’t he 
let you do any amount of assisting him in certain 
cases here, not mentioning our own uncle? Will 
you sew it on your sleeve ? ” 

“ As soon as I go to my room,” she told him, 
fondling the badge with its symbol of mercy as 
though she valued it highly. 

“ I’m more than glad you’ve got it,” Tom told 
her, “ and I’ll tell you why. If the Germans do 
come this way, as looks likely, that badge will do 
more to protect you than anything else could.” 

“ Yes,” said Lucille, softly, “ it is known all over 
the world to-day, and even the Turk respects it. 
But if we are forced to stay here, Tom, I mean to 


1 1 8 Between the Lines in France 


do my part, and not just make believe. I’ve 
thought it all over, and my mind is made up.” 

“ But we must try our best to get away from 
here before there really is any fighting,” Tom in- 
sisted. “ A battlefield isn’t a good place for any 
girl to be about; it’s hard enough on grown women 
who have been trained to seeing such things. But 
your saying that the Kaiser’s troops have overrun 
pretty much all of Belgium makes me wonder 
what’s happening to our friends there.” 

“ Oh ! yes, Mart and Harvey Dorr, and- Mart’s 
parents,” added Lucille. “ What if they have been 
caught between the lines there, and can’t get away, 
just as we’ve had happen to us here? ” 

“Oh! it’s different with them,” continued Tom. 
“ They could easy enough make the little run over to 
Antwerp, and then get a steamer across to London. 
We might have slipped down to Paris, too, only for 
that nasty spill we had that cooked our goose. I 
guess we’re the only unlucky ones of the bunch.” * 
“ This place is dead, with all the able-bodied men 
gone to join the colors,” the girl observed, looking 

* When Tom made this statement he of course had no 
knowledge of what was happening in Belgium, where the swift 
advance of the Kaiser’s overwhelming army had paralyzed 
railway traffic in a night, so that tourists who were far in the 
country found themselves stranded far from the coast. As it 
happened, their two boy friends were caught in pretty much 
the same kind of a trap as that which now surrounded Lucille 
and her brother, as those who have read the preceding volume 
of this series, “ Between the Lines in Belgium,” already know. 


Caught Like Rats in a Trap 119 

off toward the hills again, as though wishing Tom 
might propose that they take one of their enjoyable 
long strolls that way. 

“ The time may come, and soon at that/’ Tom 
warned her, “when you’ll be wishing it could be 
that way again. I can imagine what a terrible 
thing it’d be if the Germans entrenched along those 
hills, and all sorts of big guns were banging away 
day and night. I remember you telling me how 
peasants coming in from further north told stories 
about the mysterious work of large bodies of 
strange men who seemed to be doing something in 
many places, as though building concrete founda- 
tions for houses.” 

“ Yes,” Lucille said, hurriedly, “ and when you 
told me that they might be German engineers at 
work, it gave me a shiver. You wouldn’t say any- 
thing more then, Tom; but you might tell me now. 
What could they be doing up in the hills ? ” 

“ Well, I can only make a stab at it, sis, because 
I know little more than you do; but they say those 
terribly big cannon and mortars of the Germans 
have to have a solid foundation, and that they make 
this, when they can, out of concrete, generally some 
time ahead, so it may harden into stone.” 

“ How wonderful,” murmured Lucille. “ Those 
Germans prepare for everything, it seems to me. 
Doctor Jacques says he believes they know all this 
country in the north of France even better than 


120 Between the Lines in France 

people do who have lived here always. He says 
he thinks they have figured on just where every 
great gun should be placed to have the right range.” 
(See Note 4.) 

“I believe it!” exclaimed Tom, “and if the 
French ever get them across the border again they’ll 
deserve all the praise going. But the way things 
look I’m afraid none of us will ever manage to get 
to Rome as we planned, so as to cross back home 
on the same steamer.” 

" And the wager you made with Harvey — what 
about that, Tom ? ” 

The boy laughed, as though it amused him. 

“ Mighty little chance of Harv ever getting out 
of Belgium with that little camera of his,” he told 
Lucille. “ Right at this very minute the poor fel- 
low may be twiddling his thumbs inside some dun- 
geon, while the military authorities decide whether 
he’s only a silly American tourist trying to break 
the law, or a German spy, trying to get pictures 
of the Belgian forts.” 

“ It was a foolish wager, Tom, and I’m sorry 
you ever made it,” Lucille remarked. 

“ Huh ! same here ; but who’d ever have thought 
at that time the whole of Europe would be march- 
ing armies to battle? I hope Mart and Harvey 
managed to get away. It’s bad enough for us to 
be caught like rats in the measly old trap.” 


Caught Like Rats in a Trap 121 

“ Listen ! I’m sure I heard loud voices then, 
Tom!” 

“ And you didn’t make any mistake, either,” he 
assured her. “ It’s down that road yonder. 
There’s a wheezy old vehicle of some sort coming 
into town, and the driver is whipping his horses. 
Evidently they’re in a hurry.” 

“ Could it be the Germans have been chasing 
them?” Lucille asked, hastily. 

“ Oh ! I don’t know,” replied Tom. “ But what’s 
that I hear? ” 

“ A woman’s voice, and speaking English, too ! ” 
echoed Lucille. “ It must be another batch of tour- 
ists caught up here by the stopping of all trains, 
who are trying to make their way out. There they 
come, Tom! Oh! what an awful looking outfit, 
with that weak-kneed horse, and such a ramshackle 
wagon ! ” 

“ But how’s this, sis ? We’ve seen that pair be- 
fore — the little runt of a man, and the big woman 
who bosses the home camp! Why, as sure as any- 
thing it was over in London. They were on top 
of a motor ’bus going along the Strand. And to 
think of our running across them away over in this 
out-of-the-way place in France! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


MORE REFUGEES 

“ It’s good to see some one again who can talk 
English decently/’ Lucille observed, as they watched 
the hurried approach of the strange outfit. 

“Look at the lady, will you?” chuckled Tom. 
“ She even uses her umbrella to hurry up that poor 
old nag.” 

“ And every once in so often she turns to her 
husband to tell him to do something. I feel sorry 
for him, Tom. He looks as though he might be 
a nice sort of little gentleman, if you could get him 
away from that Tartar.” 

“ Hush ! don’t talk so loud ; she might hear you. 
But let me tell you, I’ll be tickled half to death to 
have somebody else to bother with my talking be- 
sides you.” 

The wretched rig drew near. Then the little 
man jumped spryly out, and in the most gallant 
fashion possible endeavored to sustain the weight 
of his stout companion. Lucille held her breath 
while this operation was going on, as though she 
feared that the puny husband might be crushed. 

After that the lady turned, and dickered with 
the peasant who apparently owned the miserable 
122 


More Refugees 123 

horse, which had escaped the eye of the comman- 
deering officers simply because it was not worth 
taking. He apparently felt grateful for what he 
received, for he made many servile bows, and re- 
mounting his wagon commenced to urge his horse 
off, as though he feared that she might repent of 
her liberality. 

The couple then came up on the porch, and found 
themselves face to face with Tom and his sister. 
Lucille, perhaps with pardonable vanity, had has- 
tily managed to pin the magical strip of white linen 
with its Red Cross to her left sleeve. Of course 
she preferred that these strangers should recognize 
her as a hospital nurse. After they had become 
better acquainted it would be time to tell her of 
the true facts of their isolation. 

“ This is a hospital, I understand?” the stout 
English lady remarked, for she must have judged 
from the appearance of Tom and his sister that 
they could not be French. 

“ Yes, we have an uncle here who was injured 
in an automobile accident some time ago,” Lucille 
hastened to remark, already forgetting her resolu- 
tion. “ That has kept us here. Our car was taken 
by the military authorities, and so we have stayed 
on, hoping to get away soon. I have been making 
myself useful as a nurse while here, you see, 
ma’am,” pointing to the emblem on her arm. 

“ There, Sir Archibald, what did I tell you as 


124 Between the Lines in France 

soon as I saw these young people? They looked 
anything but Frenchy to me. I’m glad to meet 
you, my dear. I’m Lady Featherstone, and this 
is my husband, Sir Archibald. He has injured 
his shoulder, and when I heard there was such a 
thing as a hospital handy I insisted that he have it 
attended to immediately.” 

Tom had hard work to keep from smiling as he 
remembered how in spite of all this she had not 
hesitated to lean heavily on poor Sir Archibald 
when getting down from the wagon. 

But both the young people were so delighted to 
hear the familiar sound of their native tongue 
again, that they felt they could put up with almost 
anything. 

“ Have you been caught over here by tjie war, 
ma’am?” Tom asked, “ for my sister and I re- 
member seeing you both on the Strand one day, 
while we were in London.” 

That seemed to please the stout lady. She smiled 
as she threw a quick look over toward her small 
mate. 

“ There, you see, Sir Archibald, I told you we 
attracted considerable attention wherever we went. 
But it is as you say, my lad, we were caught over 
here when the war broke out. For a long time 
we have been trying our very best to get some - 
where; but no trains are running save those carry- 
ing troops and guns and all such terrible munitions 


More Refugees 125 

of war. If you will take us to where we can see 
the surgeon, we can afterwards have a nice little 
chat, and become better acquainted.” 

Of course Tom and Lucille had no hesitation 
about doing this. 

“ You look tired, darling,” said Sir Archibald, 
quickly, interfering with the arrangement; “ sup- 
pose this young man accompanies me to the office 
of the hospital, while you remain here and rest. 
I’m sure the young lady will stay with you. After- 
wards they may be kind enough to direct us to some 
place where we can find lodgings temporarily.” 

Tom fancied that the little baronet was glad of a 
chance to get away from his wife, if only for a 
short season. She talked so much, and in so loud a 
voice, that it must be pleasant to shut out the sound 
once in a while. 

Doctor Jacques was found without any trouble, 
and an examination of the injured shoulder proved 
that there was nothing serious the matter. 

“ I had a bad slip on the rocks a day or two 
back,” explained the Englishman, as the hospital 
doctor anointed his injury with some soothing and 
healing salve ; “ we were hiding in a town where the 
Germans had left a guard at the time they passed 
toward Paris, and it became necessary that we de- 
part in the night time, or fall into their hands. We 
had the misfortune to trip and fall, and — er, well, 
I managed to be underneath, and got this beastly 


126 Between the Lines in France 


bruise. It’s pained me for days, and needed some 
sort of attention. My word! but you’ve put some 
magical ointment on it, Doctor.” 

Afterwards he drew Tom aside. 

“ Don’t let’s bother them out there on the porch 
yet,” he explained. Tom, who could read between 
the lines, willingly agreed to stroll off with him a 
bit, knowing that Lucille would be capable of en- 
tertaining the lady, who was doubtless interested in 
drawing out the story of their adventures. 

The boy found the queer little English baronet 
quite a character. Tom was quick to take a liking 
for any one who appealed to him, and that was what 
Sir Archibald did immediately. While in the pres- 
ence of his better half he might seem crushed and 
tame; once free from her domineering he could 
display an almost boyish disposition. 

When it is remembered that for many long days 
Tom had found no one save Lucille with whom he 
could exchange opinions, because he did not speak 
the language of the country, it is easy to under- 
stand how he felt drawn toward the newcomer. 

On his part Sir Archibald seemed to find the at- 
traction mutual. 

“ My word ! ” he kept saying every little while. 
“ I certainly am delighted to have run across such 
a sensible chap over here, as you seem, Tom. I 
want to meet this uncle of yours, too, for he must 
be a brick. And since we’re all in the same boat, 


More Refugees 127 

why not throw our fortunes in a lump, and stick by 
each other ? How does that strike you, my boy ? ” 

“ I think it would be a good thing,” Tom assured 
him. “ Five of us ought to be in better shape to 
find a way out than either two or three. And if the 
Germans come here, as we’re Americans perhaps we 
could be of some help to you and the lady. You, 
being English, might have a hard time of it with 
them.” 

“ My word ! I’ve a good notion to take you into 
my confidence, I declare I have,” said the other, ef- 
fusively. Then, as though he had made up his 
mind, he plunged a hand into an inner pocket, to 
bring to light a paper which he carefully unfolded. 

“What’s that, sir?” asked Tom curiously, and 
yet at the same time amused by the mysterious 
manner of the other. 

“ These are my credentials from a leading Lon- 
don newspaper,” replied Sir Archibald, proudly. 
“ You see, I am a war correspondent, authorized 
to collect news, and to transmit it to my paper. 
This document should command the respect of every 
German commander. They might send me to the 
rear as a nuisance, but they could never treat me 
rudely as a suspicious person.” 

“ Do you think they will get here, then ? ” asked 
Tom. 

“ Undoubtedly, my son,” he was told. " Why, 
if you will listen carefully at this very minute you 


128 Between the Lines in France 

can hear the sound of their heavy guns far down 
toward the south. It is a low grumble, as if a sum- 
mer storm might be creeping up above the distant 
horizon.” 

Tom was thrilled when he heard this. 

“ My sister asked me about that a while ago/’ he 
observed, “ and I told her it must be the passing of 
trains carrying soldiers or supplies to the German 
army, because of course they must control all the 
roads up in this part of France now.” 

“ You were mistaken, Tom,” Sir Archibald con- 
tinued, gravely; “ what you hear is the roar of can- 
non. Wherever that is going on depend upon it 
there are lively events taking place. I only wish I 
could be an eye witness to everything. I was just 
telling Samantha — er, Lady Featherstone, that in 
these days all war correspondents should be supplied 
with aeroplanes, and be allowed the privilege of fly- 
ing over the field of battle at their pleasure.” 

After half an hour of chatting, which Tom en- 
joyed very much, the little baronet led the way back 
to the porch, where his lady awaited him. 

“ What did the surgeon say about your shoulder, 
Sir Archibald?” she demanded. 

“ Oh ! it is nothing serious, I assure you,” her 
husband replied. “ Neglect caused much of the 
pain, and a little inflammation has set in; but he 
put some ointment on the bruise that acted like 
magic. My word! but I must find out its nature, 


More Refugees 129 

and never go without a supply. It is simply won- 
derful, my dear/’ 

After that Tom and Lucille guided the strangely 
assorted pair to the inn at which they had been stay- 
ing all these trying weeks. Here accommodations 
were easily obtained, though the landlord shrugged 
his shoulders, and confessed that he could not assure 
them peace and quiet. 

“ We have this day heard that the Germans are 
everywhere near,” he told them, for both Sir Archi- 
bald and his lady spoke French fluently, being great 
travelers; “ and so, if it is here they come presently 
they will confiscate all supplies, and treat us as we 
hear they did those poor people in Belgium, whose 
city they burned. It would be wise for monsieur 
and madame to get away while a chance remains.” 

“ My word ! that is what we would like to do,” 
Tom heard the little man mutter, as he rubbed his 
bald head in a puzzled way. “ But it is impossible 
for my wife to do any great amount of walking, 
you see, and so I’m stuck. But I had to fetch her 
with me, or give up the chance for glory, I am in a 
bad fix, believe me.” 

The war correspondent’s wife seemed to have a 
keen sense for news, at least, for she was quizzing 
the inn-keeper, and trying to pick up scraps of in- 
formation in that way. 

“Did you hear that, Sir Archibald?” she would 
cry out every little while. “ Put that in your next 


130 Between the Lines in France 

letter from the front. It will give the British public 
something to sit up over, nights, and keep the re- 
cruiting active.” 

On each and every occasion the little man was 
expected to hastily produce a pad of paper, together 
with a pencil, and fire away as though he were in 
touch with a wire that led directly into the editor’s 
den of a London daily. 

Dinner came and went, finding them later on sit- 
ting outside in the shade, for the day was quite 
hot, and even sultry. 

“ It seems to me,” Tom remarked to the baronet, 
as they sat with their feet elevated on the railing 
of the porch, a habit the baronet must have picked 
up during his travels in America, “ I can hear 
that muttering noise easier than before. Has the 
wind veered any, do you think, Sir Archibald? ” 

“ Indeed, there has hardly been a zephyr since 
early morning, and it still comes from the same 
quarter,” the other replied. “If you really want 
to know what I believe, Tom, I’ll tell you. The 
battle line is backing up this way! The Germans 
are in retreat, but fighting every mile, and holding 
their front steady ! ” 

Tom drew a long breath. 

“ That would mean they may be here before a 
great while ? ” he suggested, uneasily. 

“ Perhaps by to-morrow,” answered the little 
man, who seemed to be fairly well posted on mili- 


More Refugees 13 1 

tary matters, though he could never have been in 
the army, his lack of inches and not the want of 
martial valor, serving as a barrier; “certainly the 
day after, we can look for those hills to be filled with 
Germans and their big guns.” 

“ Do you have any idea they’ll try to stop there 
and fight, sir?” questioned Tom. 

“ I certainly do,” he was informed, soberly, “ and 
for this reason : I know that in many places up there 
they have prepared concrete foundations for their 
immense howitzers that throw those terrible shells. 
I have seen such places myself. What amazes me is 
the fact that the French, usually so smart and sus- 
picious, should have been blind to all the prepara- 
tions that have been going on for years, looking to 
just such an emergency as this.” (See Note 5.) 

“ But if that happens this town will be right be- 
tween the two hostile armies, isn’t it so, sir? ” Tom 
continued. 

“ Unfortunately, yes, that is what is likely to 
happen, sooner or later,” the baronet replied. “ I 
can only hope all of us manage to get away before 
that time comes, for I fear that there will hardly 
be one stone left on another here. The poor people 
to keep from being slaughtered like sheep must 
either fly, or else hide in their cellars.” 

“ Then we must try the best we know how to get 
through the line of the Allies,” Tom declared, with 
a wisdom far in excess of his years. 


132 Between the Lines in France 

“ That of course is the only discreet thing to do,” 
Sir Archibald admitted. Then hastily fixing his 
monocle in his left eye he proceeded to stare down 
the very road over which he and his wife had en- 
tered the town some hours before. 

Tom, attracted by this movement, looked also. 

“ It’s a man, running as though wild!” he ex- 
claimed, jumping to his feet. 

“ And it must mean that something is chasing 
after him,” said Lucille. “ See how he turns and 
looks back with each dozen jumps. There, he is 
trying to shout, now, but he has so little breath he 
can hardly do much. But listen! I can make out 
what he is calling, I believe.” 

Tom noticed with one swift glance that his sister 
had turned very white. 

“ What does he say, then, sis ? ” he asked, coax- 
ingly. 

“ The Germans are coming, is what he is trying 
to shout as a warning to the townspeople ! ” the 
girl replied, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“ I expected this, but not quite so soon,” remarked 
the little baronet, who somehow appeared to be the 
coolest member of the party. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE UHLAN RAIDERS 

They stood watching what followed with a 
strange sensation of coming evil tugging at their 
hearts. Others had by now taken up the cry, and 
it was spreading all over the town. 

Despite the fact that the French people had been 
anticipating the coming of the first detachment of 
Germans for days, and had arranged just how they 
should act so as to avoid drawing down swift pun- 
ishment upon the town, accompanied by the burning 
of houses and public buildings, every one manifested 
the greatest excitement. 

Old men hurried to the open square, where the 
mayor of the town would most likely await the 
coming of the hostile force. Women gathered their 
children together, and talked like magpies as they 
clustered in frightened knots. 

Even the dogs seemed to share in the common 
alarm, slinking around with drooping tails. The 
feeling was in the air that disaster threatened that 
thriving French town. 

“ There they come!” exclaimed Tom, whose 
sharp eyes had detected a cloud of dust rising be- 
yond a bend in the white road. 

i33 


134 Between the Lines in France 

“ They are horsemen ! ” observed the lady. 
“ What would you make of them, Sir Archibald ? ” 

“ Can you see the lances they carry, my dear ? ” 
he asked. “ That stamps them as German cavalry- 
men, called Uhlans. Like the Russian Cossacks 
they charge with lances, and inflict terrible wounds. 
Yes, these are Uhlans; possibly a detachment far 
ahead of the main army.” 

The rough riders came swinging into view until 
it could be seen that there were more than two score 
of them. They kept a constant lookout for any 
ambuscade; and had a single shot been fired no 
doubt they were ready to display the fierce spirit 
that has always been attached to the name of Uhlan. 

Dusty, and with weary horses, they came on. 
Soon they arrived at the border of the town, when, 
as if acting under orders previously given, they be- 
gan to scatter in several directions. 

The officer who seemed to be in command, with a 
small detachment, continued on to where he could 
see that the mayor of the town awaited him. 
Doubtless the poor official wished to assure the 
soldiers that no hostile act was contemplated which 
might arouse their anger, and call down bitter re- 
prisals on the heads of his peace-loving people. 

Tom, curious to know what was going on, started 
toward the open square, which happened to be quite 
close to the inn. It did not surprise the boy to find 
that Lucille had tripped after him, for she never 


The Uhlan Raiders 


135 

hesitated at accepting any risks he chose to endure 
— Lucille had always been as good as any boy chum 
he knew, in that respect. 

“ I hope they’ll behave like gentlemen, Tom,” she 
said as she came alongside her brother. 

“ Well, all I can wish,” he remarked, drily, “ is 
that they act like human beings ; because soldiers in 
a hostile country can’t always be gentlemen, you 
know. Perhaps if they’re treated decently, and 
given all the food and wine they want, they may go 
away again, and leave us alone.” 

“ That officer looks civilized enough,” Lucille con- 
tinued, as they approached the spot where the mayor 
was delivering his little speech in a trembling voice. 

" Why shouldn’t he? ” demanded Tom; “ chances 
are if you knew him in his home town you’d find he 
was of good breeding. He looks like a man who 
won’t be trifled with, and if anybody starts to shoot- 
ing around here, something will happen. But I 
guess the mayor has warned every one to behave.” 

“ So that’s what they have to do when an enemy 
comes into a town, is it ? ” asked Lucille, a little in- 
dignantly. 

“ Well,” Tom told her, “ the first thing girls and 
women have to learn is to hold their tongues. It 
saves heaps of trouble in the end.” 

“ I’ve known some boys to get in a bad fix by 
talking too much, let me tell you, smarty,” Lucille 
retorted. 


136 Between the Lines in France 

“ That’s right,” Tom told her, “ it isn’t confined 
to girls, I guess. But listen to what they’re saying, 
and translate it. I’ve only got the motions and the 
faces they make to tell me what little I can under- 
stand.” 

“ Why, the mayor is telling the officer that he 
need not fear any outbreak on the part of the towns- 
people, for they know their duty, and will enter- 
tain him and his men as well they are able. He 
hopes they will be treated even as the Uhlans would 
want the people in their native town to be in case 
the tables were turned.” 

“And what does the captain answer?” asked 
Tom. 

“ He talks a horrible brand of French, half of it 
German, I believe,” she replied in dismay; “but as 
near as I can make out he is telling the mayor it 
will be well for the people if they do behave them- 
selves, and obey as they are ordered. These are 
war times, he says, and a single treacherous act may 
start the cavalrymen to shooting up the town.” 

“ Well, it’s just about what I expected,” Tom mut- 
tered, “ and all I can say is I hope there isn’t any 
half-witted boy loose, who might think it glorious 
sport to try to pot a Prussian.” 

“ There, he has seen us, Tom, and is beckoning,” 
said Lucille. “We had better go up and try to talk 
with him, hadn’t we ? I hope he can speak English 
better than he does French.” 


The Uhlan Raiders 


137 

“ Yes, let’s go ; and, Lucille, leave most of the talk- 
ing to me this time. It’s my inning, remember.” 

“ Just as you say, Tom,” she returned, very 
meekly for one of her independent nature, Tom 
thought. 

Perhaps Lucille did not fancy the looks of the 
German officer any too well. She favored the 
French, partly because they were the weaker parties 
in this terrible struggle; had been whipped in the 
previous war and were being made victims of that 
wonderful German war machine of which so much 
had been written. Then besides, Lucille could not 
forget that her family was of French descent, and 
that made a vast difference. 

“ Are you English, boy?” demanded the officer 
of the Uhlans, frowning severely as the two came 
close up to him. 

Tom was determined not to show any signs of 
fear, though at the same time he had also made up 
his mind not to be rash or impudent. 

“ Oh ! no, we are Americans ! ” he hastened to re- 
ply. 

The German’s face lighted up at that ; at the same 
time he was cautious, and did not mean to take the 
simple word -of a boy for such a thing. These 
British, he fancied, would not be above allowing 
their half-grown lads who played at soldiering under 
the name of Boy Scouts, to come over here and act 
as spies. 


138 Between the Lines in France 

“ I am glad to know that/’ he told Tom, “ and I 
suppose you can show me something to prove your 
words? I have myself spent some years in New 
York. We want the American people to think well 
of our conquest of France, and Great Britain. How 
is it we find you here in this French town, when you 
have had plenty of time to escape? It is strange.” 

“We were on an automobile tour of Northern 
France when the war suddenly broke out,” Tom told 
him. “ Besides myself and my sister, there is our 
uncle, now an inmate of the hospital up yon- 
der.” 

“He was injured, then; tell me how?” queried 
the Uhlan officer. 

“ We started in the night to head for Paris,” the 
boy began. “ Our chauffeur had to quit us because 
he was an artilleryman, and must hurry to his place 
in one of the French fortresses on the border. So 
I drove the car. The road led over hills, and in 
places they were very steep. It was on one of these 
that we met with an accident.” 

“You ran into a ditch, it may be?” suggested 
the other. 

“ Not quite that bad, Captain,” replied Tom, with- 
out showing that he felt offended by the insinuation 
that he was not a safe driver. “ A car filled with 
French officers, hurrying to their mobilization cen- 
ter, came down the descent. They had no lights, 
and ours were very poor. So there was a collision, 


The Uhlan Raiders 


139 

although I kept as far to the right as I could, and 
poor uncle was badly hurt.” 

“ Then you brought him here, did you ? ” con- 
tinued the cavalryman, seemingly impressed with 
the frank and fearless bearing of the boy; it may be 
he himself had just such a son at home, for his eyes 
kindled as he watched every movement Tom Mail- 
lard made. 

“ Yes, sir,” the lad resumed; “ the officers had to 
leave us in a hurry, after making sure that our car 
was still fit to run ; but they told us about this town, 
and that we would find a hospital here. We have 
had to remain ever since, sir, which as you may 
know was pretty galling to us when we wanted to 
be on the way home.” 

“ Just on account of the man who was injured, do 
you mean, boy ? ” 

“ Well,” Tom assured him, “ mostly that; but as 
the French Government commandeered our car four 
days after we landed here, we could not have gone, 
even if my uncle had been well enough.” 

The Uhlan captain shook his head. 

“ It is too bad,” he remarked, “ because now you 
are hemmed in by a wall of steel, and it may be im- 
possible for you to get through. Our army is com- 
ing to take up positions that have already been ar- 
ranged, and where they can snap their fingers at all 
the Allies in France to budge them. And as this 
little town lies in the cup between, it is likely there 


140 Between the Lines in France 

will be very little left of it by the time Winter sets 
in. What did you say your name was, boy? ” 

“ It is Thomas Maillard, Captain, and this is my 
sister, Lucille. I can show you letters from our 
folks over in America, if you care to take the time 
to read any of them.” 

He held up several which he had been carrying in 
his pocket ever since they left Paris, so that the 
edges of the envelopes looked frayed and worn. 
The Uhlan officer only , glanced at them, as though 
convinced from the United States stamps and the 
post-marks that they were genuine. 

“ Yes, I see that is your name, and these letters 
were sent to Paris,” he continued. “ It is all right, 
then, and I believe you are what you say.” 

He looked over at Lucille, as though attracted by 
her rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Tom, wishing to 
confine the attention of the Uhlan to himself, imme- 
diately asked : 

“ You will not think it worth while to detain us. 
Captain, will you ? Our uncle, Alvin Maillard, is in 
the hospital, where you can see him if you want, and 
find out the same things I have told you.” 

“ No, there is no need of bothering either you or 
your pretty sister, Thomas. We Germans do not 
make war on women or children, nor yet on manly- 
looking lads who have bright faces like yours. But 
if you take my advice you will leave this hapless 
town at once,” 



“Surround that man, and if he tries to escape cut 
him down like a wolf !” 














































































The Uhlan Raiders 


Hi 

“ We’d be only too glad to do that, Captain, if 
you could only tell us how we can go,” Tom ex- 
plained. “ Our poor uncle is still weak, and could 
not stand a long tramp over the hills this hot 
weather. We could perhaps manage to get him sev- 
eral miles off, and that would be a help.” 

“ Get out before three days have gone, at the 
most,” the soldier warned him. “ That is all I dare 
tell you. Perhaps somewhere you might manage 
to find a horse that was passed by when the French 
combed this neighborhood for mounts, and animals 
to draw their guns. Hire it, beg it, steal it, but get 
a horse by any means. Three of you should not 
find it so hard to escape from the net. The French 
would let you pass through their lines, it might be.” 

“ There are five of us now, Captain.” 

Tom would not have said this only he happened 
to discover Sir Archibald and his wife walking 
slowly toward them. The little baronet had evi- 
dently been unable to hold back any longer. Curi- 
osity to know what was transpiring had gained the 
mastery over his natural caution. Perhaps the 
newsgathering instinct had something to do with it, 
too; for war reporters soon get to be utterly reck- 
less of their own lives in pursuit of “ beats ” in the 
way of soul-stirring “ copy.” 

“ What do you mean by that, boy?” demanded 
the Uhlan, suspiciously. 

“ There are two other tourists who have been 


142 Between the Lines in France 

stranded up here, and want to get to Paris again,” 
Tom told him. 

Seeing that the boy was looking in a certain di- 
rection the captain also turned his eyes that way. 
Just then Sir Archibald, accompanied by his buxom 
better half, chanced to be close by. 

The little baronet was stalking along with his 
chest thrown out, and assuming a very important 
and business-like air. Tom would have been in- 
clined to laugh at his assumed superior manner, only 
that the conditions were too grave to admit of such 
levity. 

He rather expected to find that the big Uhlan of- 
ficer would be struck by the comical character of the 
ill-assorted pair; but just the contrary seemed to be 
the case. Hearing a low exclamation from the sol- 
dier, Tom looked up at him as he sat his saddle. 
He was immediately conscious of a disturbing sensa- 
tion around the region of his heart; for he saw that 
the officer was frowning blackly. 

For a brief space of time the leader of the Uhlans 
continued to stare and grumble and frown. Then 
he called out sharply. It must have been to some 
of his men that he spoke, for three of them imme- 
diately detached themselves from the main body. 

As has been said before Tom had a little knowl- 
edge of German. He could not have carried on 
even a simple conversation in the language ; but with 
such smattering of words as he did know, he was 


The Uhlan Raiders 


H3 

able to grasp fairly well the tenor of the gruff order 
which the Uhlan captain thundered out. 

“ Surround that man, and if he tries to escape cut 
him down like a wolf ! He answers the description 
of the most dangerous English spy we have against 
us! ” 

While Tom and his sister stood there, almost in- 
capable of motion, they saw the three cavalrymen 
dash out and close in around Sir Archibald; who 
made no attempt at resistance, but placing his mon- 
ocle in his left eye stared blandly at the circle of 
horsemen that now encompassed him. 


CHAPTER XV 


TAKEN FOR A SPY 

“ My word ! but this is sudden ! ” 

That was what Tom heard the baronet remark as 
the Uhlans closed around him, and from the flour- 
ishing of their lances made it plain that he would 
attempt resistance at his peril. 

Indeed, resistance was apparently the last thing 
Sir Archibald thought of. He had evidently long 
ago learned to present a passive front when in con- 
tact with a superior force. 

His wife, however, was threatening to go into 
hysterics. Evidently the Uhlan captain did not 
fancy having his plans interfered with by a mere 
woman, for he frowned savagely at Lady Feather- 
stone, and made an autocratic movement with his 
arm. 

Then he shouted an order to the three mounted 
soldiers. It must have been to remove the prisoner, 
for they immediately started to urge the diminutive 
baronet to move on. 

“As for you, madam,” the officer continued, 
changing to English, “ if you know what is good for 
you, be off at once to the hotel, and stay there the 
rest of the time we are in occupation here. We do 
144 


Taken for a Spy 145 

not war on women, but it must be to their regret if 
they dare interfere with our plans. A word should 
be enough for you.” 

“ But you are making a terrible mistake ! ” she 
called out, even as others of the guard were urging 
her to move along. “ Sir Archibald is too brave 
to beg you to listen to him. He is not what you 
claim — a spy. It is absurd — ridiculous ! ” 

The Uhlan only laughed mockingly. He seemed 
rather pleased over something; and Tom speedily 
learned what amused him, though he had to guess 
at many of the words. 

“ So he is a Sir Archibald, is he?” he heard thes 
captain say to the orderly near him ; “ then it is as 
I believed, and he is an English spy. He must be 
held until our colonel arrives with the rest of the 
command. If he thinks the same as myself, we may 
have the pleasure of shooting Sir Archibald before 
we leave this place.” 

Apparently the affair sat lightly on the mind of 
the Uhlan, for he immediately turned toward Tom, 
and with a friendly nod remarked : 

“If then you have been here so long, you should 
know where the best dinner could be had; is it not 
so, my boy ? ” 

Tom knew that it was the part of wisdom for him 
to retain the good will of this reckless raider. Ac- 
cordingly he hastened to assure him on this point. 

“ My sister and myself have been stopping at an 


146 Between the Lines in France 

inn close by, Captain; I will lead you there if you 
say the word.” 

“ Tell me,” the other continued, sitting sideways 
in his hard saddle, “ is the eating worth while ? 
This French cooking does not set well on a German 
stomach; but then we must eat, and it was many 
hours ago that we had our breakfast.” 

“We have found the meals very satisfactory,” 
Tom replied; “and if you have time to spare I’ve 
no doubt the cook will be glad to get you up any 
sort of dish you might like.” 

“ Well, it’s a case of taking what offers, or going 
hungry, so lead on, my boy. I shall warn the keeper 
of the hotel that he himself must taste every dish 
set before me. I take no chances with these French- 
men who have a forty-year hate burning in their 
souls.” 

Two of his men accompanied him, as they seemed 
to be something above the rank of privates, possibly 
non-commissioned officers. Tom managed to steal 
a look toward the spot where the three Uhlans stood 
guard over the suspected spy. 

“ Well, I take off my hat to that little baronet for 
coolness,” he said to himself, when he saw Sir Archi- 
bald calmly sitting on a bench, puffing away at his 
briarwood pipe, as though quite at peace with the 
world. 

Tom found it impossible to decide whether this 
was the confidence of innocence — ignorance of the 


Taken for a Spy 147 

really desperate nature of his situation — or the 
natural coolness of the man in the face of deadly 
peril. 

Up in the window above he could see the bar- 
onet’s wife. She seemed to be sitting where she 
could keep her eyes fastened on the scene before 
the inn. Tom began to realize that in spite of her 
apparent bullying ways she did care considerably 
for the smaller half of the firm. 

“ Honestly,” he afterwards told Lucille, when 
speaking of the matter, “ I begin to believe she is 
really human, and not so much of a tyrant as we’ve 
been thinking. She looked as though she felt like 
flying at that captain, and trying to pull him off his 
horse when he called Sir Archibald a spy. And 
right now I guess she’s trying to think up some way 
to rescue him.” 

The worthy innkeeper was waiting to receive 
them. He looked badly frightened, because this 
was his first experience with German invaders; and 
all sorts of terrible stories must have been rife in 
that community as to the fierce nature of these 
Uhlan cavalrymen. 

Rubbing his hands together and trying to as- 
sume a pleasant look the landlord welcomed the 
captain to his humble hostelry. 

As he could not understand much German, and 
the soldier was no French scholar, it quickly became 
apparent that there might be more or less confusion, 


148 Between the Lines in France 

and a hitch in the arrangements, unless some one 
came to their assistance. 

Lucille proved herself handy about this, as well 
as Tom. They indicated to the Uhlan captain that 
if he would specify what dishes he was particularly 
fond of they would give the order to the innkeeper, 
who was very desirous of pleasing him. 

“ We have no time for that, little fraulein,” the 
captain told her, with what was meant to be a beam- 
ing smile; “so please inform him that he is to set 
forth what he happens to have prepared, hot or cold 
it matters little, only that there is enough ! ” 

So the girl, turning upon the landlord, repeated 
the order. When it became apparent that this was 
understood from the nods of the other, the soldier 
spoke again : 

“ Also tell him not to forget the wine. Of what 
use is it to be in France if one cannot wash down the 
dust of these white roads? Plenty of it, remem- 
ber! ” 

When this command had been properly trans- 
mitted, and the manner of the innkeeper indicated 
that it was fully understood, he was about to with- 
draw, after numerous polite bows, when the captain 
thundered out again: 

“Wait! Tell him no frogs must be placed be- 
fore us. We eat everything that is good, but draw 
the line at snails and frogs and such stuff. Yes, and 
please warn him that he shall stand beside me and 


Taken for a Spy 149 

be my taster as I enjoy my meal. If it doesn’t kill 
a Frenchman surely a German should be safe.” 

Lucille duly translated this last information, 
though she had some difficulty in keeping her face 
straight. Knowing the innkeeper as well as she 
did, she was sure he would never harm a fly if he 
could help it; much less dream of attempting to 
injure human beings in such a fashion. 

He looked worried, as any one well might, on 
learning that he was held in such suspicion, and with 
sundry shrugs and gestures proceeded to pour out 
his protestations to Lucille. She duly translated 
the same to the officer, who seemed satisfied, for he 
waved the proprietor away. 

In due time the table was spread, and as there 
happened to be an abundance of prepared food on 
hand at the time, the eyes of the three Germans 
fairly glistened as they sat down. 

Tom and Lucille lingered. They did not expect 
that their services would be needed any further, but 
felt a curiosity to see whether the Uhlan captain 
would actually compel the wretched landlord, who 
had already had his dinner, to partake of a portion 
of every dish that happened to suit his eye. 

He certainly proved to be a man of his word, for 
the first thing he did was to turn to Lucille and re- 
mark : 

“ Tell him that when I point to a certain dish he 
is to immediately eat some of it. And every fresh 


150 Between the Lines in France 

bottle of wine must show that it has not been tam- 
pered with, or he will have to test it by a cup.” 

The innkeeper tried to smile as he learned what 
was expected of him, but Tom thought he looked 
distressed. 

“ I should hate to be in his boots just now,” he 
said, aside to Lucille, “ because I got away with an 
enormous dinner only a little while back.” 

“ But this is war time, you know, Tom,” she told 
him, humorously, “ when men have to show what 
heroes they can be. And they are making the poor 
landlord eat pretty generous portions in the bar- 
gain.” 

Things seemed to be working smoothly by this 
time. After the “ taster ” had done his best to con- 
vince his tormentors that certain dishes were im- 
mune from dangerous properties the German of- 
ficer helped his men and then himself bountifully, 
and proceeded to “ feed.” That was what Tom 
called it later on, when trying to recall the queer 
happening; for they bolted their food like hungry 
dogs. 

Only once did the captain look up, and then hap- 
pening to discover what he may have thought was 
an expression of awe on the face of Lucille, he 
nodded his head, and said, as if in apology for their 
want of manners at table : 

“ Riding since early dawn sharpens the appetite, 
you know, fraulein. We soldiers get to have the 


Taken for a Spy 151 

appetites of wolves; and perhaps sometimes act the 
same way. But all the same we are not boors or 
barbarians, as those English would make us out. 
And as our colonel may be here at any time we would 
finish before his arrival.” 

That reminded Tom of something. He had 
meant to look up Uncle Alvin, who must be wonder- 
ing greatly what had become of them both. As the 
soldiers had scattered through the town, the fact of 
their presence must have gone everywhere. Even 
in the hospital, over which the flag of the Red Cross 
floated, the nurses were undoubtedly talking over 
the invasion. 

“ Let us go to uncle, Lucille,” he remarked, as 
they came together. “ He will be anxious about us, 
I’m afraid.” 

“ Then tell the captain where we are going, and 
that if he wants us to do anything more he will find 
us at the hospital,” said Lucille. 

There was evidently no objection on the officer’s 
part to their taking their departure. He gave them 
each a nod, and a supposedly friendly smile, but was 
too industriously engaged just then to do more. 

As they were coming out they saw that a Uhlan 
was standing guard over the stairs leading to the 
upper part of the inn. Evidently the captain did 
not mean to take any chances of having that aroused 
Amazon descend upon him while he was enjoying 
his dinner. 


152 Between the Lines in France 

Once over at the hospital they quickly came to 
where Uncle Alvin sat in a big chair. He did in- 
deed look worried, though his face cleared magic- 
ally at sight of his two wards. Uncle Alvin had 
actually picked up some flesh since coming here. 
His arm was getting on fairly well, too, and if given 
another week or so he might have issued forth from 
the hospital all the better from his long rest. 

“ I am glad you’ve come, children,” he hastily told 
them. “ All sorts of reports have been brought in 
about some Uhlans who are overrunning the town. 
I hope they do not put a match to this building, 
though I am thankful that I could walk out if it 
came to necessity. Now tell me all that has hap- 
pened.” 

This was done as hastily as possible. The old 
gentleman seemed deeply interested concerning all 
he heard, especially in connection with the peril of 
the baronet. 

“ Why,” he remarked, after he had heard the 
name of the Englishman, “ I wonder now if that 
could be the famous Sir Archibald Featherstone, 
who has made such a name for himself as an ex- 
plorer of ancient tombs and buried cities. A most 
wonderful man, all accounts agree. I have read 
many of his treatises myself.” 

“ Well,” Tom told him, “ of course we don’t know 
about all that, Uncle; only from what we’ve seen of 
him we think he must be above the common. The 


Taken for a Spy 153 

coolest customer I ever struck, too. Right now he’s 
sitting there, with one knee over the other, smok- 
ing his old black pipe as calmly as though only wait- 
ing for the dinner horn to blow. And yet they may 
shoot him inside of an hour.” 

“If he has the genius you say, Uncle,” added 
Lucille, “ then he’s got the most wonderfully push- 
ing wife any man ever had. She’s the engine that 
speeds him forward, I tell you. Just wait till you 
meet her, that’s all.” 

“ I’m in no hurry, my dear,” said the little old 
bachelor, who had managed to shun womankind 
pretty much all his life; “but something should be 
done to keep Sir Archibald from being injured. 
Tom, it seems to be up to you to think of a plan.” 

“ I have fixed that in my mind already, Uncle,” 
replied the boy. 

“ And what is the scheme, then ? ” questioned the 
other, eagerly. 

“ Oh ! ” Tom replied, “ when the commanding of- 
ficer comes to town Lucille and myself will have to 
interview him. I only hope he can speak and un- 
derstand English, that’s all.” 

“ Yes,” added his sister, “ so far no one has 
seemed to bother searching Sir Archibald’s pockets. 
If they had they would have found that document 
authorizing him to act as the representative of a 
London newspaper. And Tom says war corre- 
spondents must be treated as gentlemen, not dogs.” 


r i54 Between the Lines in France 

“ Well, they seem to be getting a mighty small 
portion of respect in this war/’ the old gentleman 
chuckled. “As far as IVe heard they’ve been 
chased to the rear, and see next to nothing about 
what is going on. But, Tom, you see that this 
colonel, when he comes, reads that paper. It would 
be a burning shame if the wonderful Sir Archibald 
were shot as a common spy.” 

“ Then perhaps we’d better be going right away, 
Uncle,” suggested Tom, who was really eager to be 
outdoors, where things were happening all the 
time. 

“ Don’t linger on my account,” Uncle Alvin told 
them. “ The doctor will be here in a short while, 
and perhaps he may tell me I can step out on the 
porch to sit in the afternoon sunshine. I believe it 
would do me some good. Hurry away, now, dears, 
on your errand of mercy.” 

Accordingly Tom and his sister left the room, to 
seek the open air. Hardly had they gained the 
front of the hospital than both of them made a dis- 
covery that gave them a new thrill. 


CHAPTER XVI 


FRIENDS AT COURT 

“ We’re just in time, sis, for there they come 
along the road!” declared Tom, as he pointed to- 
ward another great cloud of dust. 

“ I can see Uhlans riding at the head, but there 
must be a lot of them to make all that dust,” Lucille 
remarked. 

“ Listen, and you’ll hear men shouting,” said 
Tom. “ I think they must be urging tired horses 
on. Perhaps they have a lot of artillery back of 
them, for it seems to me I can catch the rumble of 
wheels over the wooden bridge that spans the little 
stream over there.” 

Standing on the porch of the hospital they had a 
splendid view of what was going on. As the van 
of the mounted force struck the border of the town 
they settled down to a slower advance, so that the 
dust cloud was gradually dissipated. 

“ Yes, you guessed it, Tom, for now I can get 
glimpses of the guns,” Lucille observed. 

“ And let me tell you they don’t mean to stop 
here, judging from the way the artillery seems to 
be turning aside over that other road. There, you 
can see the officer in charge pointing up at the hills. 

155 


156 Between the Lines in France 

That’s where the cannon are going before those 
tired horses have a rest.” 

The coming force had indeed separated, just as 
Tom said. Although the cavalrymen kept on into 
the town proper, the battery of field guns followed 
the road leading to the hills. 

“ They know every crossroad and bridle path in 
Northern France, I do believe,” muttered Tom, with 
admiration plainly expressed in his manner. 
“ They say that every German officer has studied 
the lay of the land between the frontier and Paris, 
year in and year out, until he is as familiar with it 
as with his native land.” 

“ Look at the poor horses, how they strain and 
tug! ” commented Lucille. 

Indeed, the animals were covered with sweat and 
dust, so that they presented an appearance far from 
'pleasant. But under the sting of the lash they 
were forced to put forth continual exertions. 

The advent of the Uhlans, together with the pass- 
ing of the artillery, was so far the most thrilling 
experience that had come to the stranded tourists. 
They continued to stand on the hospital porch and 
watch, until the shouting of the artillerymen and the 
rumble of the gun carriages grew less distinct, as 
they neared the base of the hills. 

Then Tom and his sister remembered that they 
had something else to do besides act as sight- 
seers. 


Friends at Court 


157 

“ Shall we go over to the inn now?” Tom asked. 

“ The new cavalrymen seem to be scattering 
around town just as the others did/’ Lucille re- 
turned. “ I suppose they want to be fed the first 
thing and know just how to go about it.” 

“Well, they ought to,” the boy told her, “ be- 
cause it’s their business to raid in a hostile country, 
and they make it a point to live on the land. These 
Uhlans seldom carry anything to eat with them, I 
understand. It’s a case of hard riding; to-day they 
are here, and to-morrow thirty miles away.” 

“ Do you see any one like the colonel, Tom? ” 

“ Well, there’s a group of officers riding slowly 
up to the inn right now,” was the reply ; “ and I 
suppose that man with the heavy beard must be the 
head of the detachment.” 

“ Yes,” continued Lucille, “ because the others 
seem to wait on him and when he waves his hand 
some one gallops off as if he’d had his orders.” 

They walked towards the inn, and were conscious 
of the fact that several of the newcomers were eye- 
ing them curiously. So far as Tom had seen there 
had up to then been no cases of vandalism; cer- 
tainly they saw no ascending smoke to tell of burn- 
ing houses, nor had a single shot been fired. 

“ There’s Sir Archibald,” remarked the girl, as 
they passed on. 

Tom waved his hand, boy-fashion, toward the lit- 
tle baronet. His salute must have been seen, for 


1 58 Between the Lines in France 

Sir Archibald immediately returned it, which action 
caused several mounted Germans to talk among 
themselves, as well as bend suspicious looks upon 
the young people. 

As if wholly unconcerned Tom led his sister 
across the open square, and in this way reached the 
inn. Outside were a dozen dusty horses, looking as 
if they had come a long way since sunrise. One 
Uhlan sat in his saddle guarding the mounts. 

“ This must be the beginning of the end that the 
poor landlord told us he expected was going to over- 
take him,” Lucille ventured, as they ascended to the 
porch. 

Inside the inn could be heard gruff voices and 
heavy laughter. No doubt the balance of the of- 
ficers were seating themselves at the table where the 
captain still sat, and hurling all manner of orders 
at the head of the trembling proprietor, to whom 
they must have appeared in the guise of so many 
ravenous wolves. 

“ I’m wondering how we’ll fare after it’s all 
over,” muttered Tom, making a face. “ These 
Germans have enormous appetites, and they’ll clean 
us out of house and home. When they say good-by 
to this town it’ll be a sorry looking place so far as 
getting a decent meal goes.” 

“ But we shouldn’t complain, remember, Tom,” 
cautioned his sister. 

“ I know it,” he admitted; “ we’ve got so much to 


Friends at Court 


159 

be thankful for that we ought to stand little things 
like going hungry without grumbling.” 

“ Those poor tired horses,” Lucille continued, as 
her thoughts reverted to the way the artillerymen 
had lashed their animals ; “ how I pity them. Do 
you really believe they’ll have to drag those heavy 
guns and caissons up to the top of that highest ridge 
over there? ” 

“You bet they will!” declared Tom. “From 
what little snatches of talk I’ve caught, and the way 
the men pointed, I’m sure that’s what the Germans 
aim to do. They’ve got everything fixed up there 
for a regular siege — trenches, gun emplacements 
and all such things. Didn’t you hear Sir Archi- 
bald say he knew it, and had seen some of the places 
with his own eyes? ” 

“ If that is so, Tom, what is going to happen to 
this little town ? ” Lucille asked, in a quavering 
voice. 

The picture as they saw it in the sunlight was so 
peaceful and pleasant it seemed hard to realize that 
a terrible change was imminent. 

“ Don’t ask me that,” he protested, with a frown ; 
“ I only hope we manage to clear out of this before 
the fighting starts. When both sides begin to bom- 
bard, with the town lying between, it’s good-by to 
nearly everything.” 

“ Will you wait to see the colonel when he has 
finished eating, Tom? ” she next asked. 


160 Between the Lines in France 


“ They say that’s the best time to tackle a man if 
you want him to do you a favor,” Tom suggested. 

His sister laughed. 

“ Yes, I always used to notice, Tom, at home, 
when you’d been doing something you expected to 
be punished for, and had to confess to father, you 
always waited until he had gone into the library 
after dinner, and then slipped in behind him. I 
guess you do know the best way, so we’ll wait for 
the colonel to finish.” 

They waited for half an hour, watching various 
things. A number of the Uhlans were rounding, 
up some chickens in several yards not far away, 
though offering to pay for those they speared. 
Needless to say the polite and diplomatic owners 
seldom ventured to accept the proffered coins. Bet- 
ter to mourn the loss of a few fowls than take the 
chance of incurring ill-will. 

Finally there was heard a great scraping of chairs 
inside the inn, after which the captain whom they 
had met before, accompanied by the man with the 
shaggy beard, and other officers, came out. 

Tom had made up his mind that this was no time 
for delaying matters. Doubtless over their dinner, 
and the wine that flowed like water, the German of- 
ficers had been discussing the affair of the sus- 
pected spy. Uhlans were notorious for giving men 
who had incurred their dislike, or who were be- 
lieved to be traitors, a short shrift. 


Friends at Court 


i6t 


As Tom, followed by his sister, approached the 
group, now lighting cigars that of course the oblig- 
ing innkeeper had produced, the colonel had his at- 
tention directed toward them by the captain. 

He immediately beckoned, as though he wished 
them- to join the group, an invitation which Tom and 
Lucille gladly obeyed. 

“ So, you are Americans, I hear? ” observed the 
colonel. 

Tom was pleased when he discovered that like the 
other German, the leader of the raiding detachment 
could also converse in English. He might hate the 
people of the “ tight little island ” across the Chan- 
nel, but as an officer in the German army he had 
been obliged to learn the language. 

“ Yes, Colonel, we are Americans, caught here 
in a trap, and unable to get away up to now,” the 
boy replied. 

“ My captain has told me about you,” the bearded 
officer continued, pleasantly. 

His manner showed that looks do not always tell 
the truth, for he appeared to be a very domineering 
man — as perhaps he was when ordering his 
troopers about. 

“ Then you know how we come to be caught here 
and that as soon as our uncle is strong enough to 
travel we expect to get away? ” Tom continued, at 
which the colonel nodded again, and remarked : 

“ You could not fix the date of your departure 


1 62 Between the Lines in France 

any too soon, for it is a matter of hours rather than 
days when this peaceful little valley will be filled 
with the roaring of countless guns, and the charg- 
ing of thousands of troops. Take my advice, and 
get away without delay.” 

“ It is very kind of you to say that, Colonel,” re- 
turned Tom, “ and when we get back home again 
be sure we mean to tell how we received nothing but 
friendly advice and assistance from the Uhlans.” 

“ You cannot spread that intelligence too far to 
suit us,” declared the colonel, with a snap of his 
square jaws, and a glitter in his blue eyes. “ We 
are given a hard name by those who cannot under- 
stand what war means, and how men must deal 
harshly with people who try to fire into their backs. 
What can I do for you further, young folks?” 
(See Note 6). 

Tom considered that this was a favorable time for 
him to put in a plea for the prisoner. 

“ We want to ask a favor of you, Colonel, but it 
is not for ourselves,” Lucille broke in, before Tom 
could open his mouth to make the same remark. 

Lucille’s cheeks were burning, and she looked very 
pretty as she faced the big German officer. He 
smiled at her. Tom hoped he had a lot of daugh- 
ters with just such red cheeks at his far-away home; 
and that Lucille with her pleading eyes reminded 
him of them. 


Friends at Court 163 

“ Tell me what it is, then, madchen,” said the 
cavalryman, softly, “ and perhaps I may be able to 
grant it.” 

“ We have a friend who is in trouble,” Lucille 
went on hurriedly, taking the reins out of her 
brother’s hands, though Tom made no objection. 
“ Our friend, the captain here, believes he is some 
sort of a spy, but we assure you it is impossible. 
He is a famous explorer of ancient tombs and cata- 
combs and pyramids, my uncle says.” 

The German commander frowned, and stroked 
his beard. 

“You mean the English baronet, Sir Archibald, 
do you not ? ” he asked gruffly. 

“ Yes, it was thought that he resembled some per- 
son who was suspected of being a spy,” Tom man- 
aged to break in, determined that Lucille should not 
have all the glory. “ But, Colonel, I do not think 
he has been searched yet. On his person you will 
find a paper showing that he is only a war corre- 
spondent. My uncle says that newspaper reporters 
are non-combatants, and should be treated with 
every courtesy by both sides, because they sway pub- 
lic opinion.” 

At that the officer burst into a laugh. 

“ So that is what Sir Archibald claims to be, is 
it?” he remarked. “We shall soon see, for the 
first thing we do will be to have his pockets turned 


164 Between the Lines in France 

inside out, and the lining of his coat examined to 
learn whether he has any concealed papers. You 
shall come with us to observe the proceedings.” 

Of course this was as much as Tom and his sister 
could have expected. They gladly accompanied the 
group of officers to where the three guards stood 
around the prisoner. 

Sir Archibald stood up. He was still smoking 
calmly, and appeared to be the most disinterested 
one present. Glancing over to the inn Tom could 
see that the lady in the case was still leaning out of 
her window, apparently a deeply interested spectator 
of all that was going on. 

“ Search him ! ” ordered the colonel, sharply, in 
German. 

From the earnest and complete way in which they 
went about their task, the soldiers must have had 
ample experience in looking through the pockets of 
suspected persons. The colonel took possession of 
everything that was produced. Then he had them 
hand him Sir Archibald’s coat, which he examined 
inch by inch. 

When Tom and his sister saw him finally pick up 
the paper that meant so much to the prisoner, they 
almost held their breath. It was a toss-up just then 
whether Sir Archibald would be set free, or ordered 
to be shot as a suspected spy. Still, he puffed away 
as unconcernedly as though he had no doubt con- 
cerning the eventual outcome of the affair. And if 


Friends at Court 165 

this was assumed assurance Tom was ready to de- 
clare that he had never seen anything so well acted. 

After reading the paper all through the officer ob- 
served Sir Archibald keenly. Tom fancied he was 
making use of his own powers of discernment in 
order to decide whether the accused man were guilty 
or innocent. 

Just then the shrill voice of the lady made itself 
heard. The colonel glanced toward the inn, to see 
her waving both hands violently toward them, while 
she went on to threaten all sorts of vengeance from 
the British Government if even a hair of Sir Archi- 
bald’s head were harmed. 

“ How is this, and who is the lady?” he asked 
the captain, evidently surprised. 

“ She is his wife, Colonel ; we had to force her to 
retreat to her room. I was afraid she might even 
threaten to attack my whole command,” the other 
assured him gravely, but possibly with a twinkle in 
his eye. 

The colonel nodded his head, and then turned to 
the guards. 

“ Give the Herr Professor his coat and then let 
him go free,” he ordered in English. “If he is 
only a poor newspaper correspondent he is harm- 
less. Besides, there are some kinds of punishment 
in this world, I think, that are even worse than be- 
ing shot.” 

Sir Archibald may have understood what lay be- 


1 66 Between the Lines in France 

neath this remark, but at any rate he was wise 
enough not to aggravate matters by trying to de- 
fend his loud-voiced wife. 

The colonel had been observing the little man 
with an air of amusement. Being of so large a 
build himself, doubtless he looked upon the other 
much as a mastiff might a terrier. 

“ I fancy that you may be a man whose word is to 
be believed, even if you are English,’’ he proceeded 
to say, presently. “ One question before I turn you 
free. Have you ever played the role of a spy since 
this war commenced ? ” 

Sir Archibald knocked the ashes from his pipe. 
Then he carefully deposited this precious article in 
its particular pocket of his coat, after which he 
looked up steadily into the face of the Uhlan and re- 
plied : 

“ Never, in all my life, I assure you, Colonel ! ” 

“ That’s enough ; I believe you’re the kind who 
would have owned up rather than tell a lie, even if 
you had to be shot for it. You are free to go your 
way, Sir Archibald, but let me give you a piece of 
advice first.” 

“ That’s jolly good of you, old chap; and I’ll be 
pleased to hear it,” the Englishman told him. 

“ Inform your people across the Channel that 
Germans are not barbarians. That is all. Cap- 
tain, order our men to horse. It is time we were 
away ! ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


BETWEEN HOSTILE FORCES 

Twenty-four hours later there had been no par- 
ticular change in and around the town where Tom, 
Lucille and Uncle Alvin had found a refuge at the 
time of the outbreak of the dreadful war. 

They had heard strange sounds, it is true, at in- 
tervals during the night and Tom declared it his 
opinion that many heavy guns must have passed 
close by between sunset and dawn. 

Still, so far as general appearances went the town 
lay basking peacefully in the warm summer sun- 
shine, with no soldiers in sight. 

Tom wondered whether this could be in the nature 
of the lull that often precedes the breaking of the 
most violent storms. He was well versed in wood- 
craft, and capable of applying its principles to every- 
day life. 

Several times they had looked through an old 
marine glass which the doctor at the hospital had 
produced. It was in the direction of the crest of 
those hills that their interest was centered. Every 
time they took this observation it was the same. 

“ Men are working feverishly up there,” Tom had 
said to Lucille, “ and they seem to be digging, dig- 
167 


1 68 Between the Lines in France 


ging all the time. They are German soldiers, too, 
because you can make out the gray uniforms, even 
if they are pretty well soiled by now, after all the 
fighting and marching they have done.” (See 
Note 7.) 

“ Then Sir Archibald was right, Tom, and they 
mean to hold the hills against the French? ” Lucille 
questioned. 

“ Yes, there’s no doubt about it,” he replied. 

“ The people in the town must know what is 
bound to happen,” observed Lucille, “ for every- 
where you can see them trying to prepare for the 
worst. Poor things, I’m sorry for them. Some 
are burying valuables in their gardens while others 
have tried to leave town with a few things in an old 
cart drawn by a donkey, or a weak looking horse.” 

“ Yes, and I saw some even loaded down them- 
selves with all sorts of truck,” added Tom. “ As 
you say, it’s terrible to think of all the suffering 
war causes. Up to now we’ve seen only the begin- 
ning of the bad times ahead for these folks; the 
worst is yet to come, when the fighting commences.” 

“ Will they respect the hospital, do you think, 
Tom? ” 

“ I give it up. It flies the Red Cross flag, to be 
sure, and I don’t believe either the Germans or the 
French would willfully fire at it; but you know mis- 
takes can happen. And it may be in the direct line 
of fire, just as churches are, often enough. If this 


Between Hostile Forces 169 

town is going to be fought over day after day, there 
may not be one stone left on top of another in the 
end.” 

“ That’s a dreadful thing to say, Tom,” Lucille 
told him, with a look of positive pain on her young 
face ; “ but as soon as we’ve had some lunch, what’s 
to hinder us from taking our last little stroll around 
here? We needn’t go far and if as we plan we try 
to get away from the town to-night after the sun 
goes down, it’ll be to say good-by forever to this 
pretty little valley.” 

“ I don’t know that there’s anything to keep us 
from doing that,” Tom replied. “ So far we 
haven’t seen a single sign of the French, and I guess 
from that the fighting will hardly begin here to- 
day.” 

“ But it’s going on all around us, you know,” Lu- 
cille observed. 

“ Well, there’s heavy firing along the line,” Tom 
confessed; “ and uncle says it’s likely the Allies have 
started to attack the new positions of the Germans 
bordering the Aisne River.” 

Just then they heard the welcome call to luncheon. 
If the table was not quite so bountifully spread as 
on other occasions they made no complaint. 

“ After seeing what tremendous appetites those 
officers had yesterday,” Lucille told her brother, 
“ the only thing that surprises me is how our land- 
lord managed to save anything at all.” 


170 Between the Lines in France 

“ Just one more meal here, and then we’ll be off.” 

“ Uncle has already settled his bill in full, he told 
me,” the girl continued. “ He always wants to 
make sure that no one suffers through him. That 
Uhlan colonel was kind to warn us not to stay here 
any longer, I think.” 

“ Yes, and I’d have said skip out last night, only 
for uncle. He complained of having eaten some- 
thing that made him feel bad, and I didn’t have the 
heart to tell him what the German commander told 
us. But we dare not stay any longer.’’ 

“ Besides,” added Lucille, laughingly, “ the inn- 
keeper has notified us that he means to shut up his 
house after to-day, so you see we couldn’t stay any 
longer.” 

“ But of course the hospital will keep open,” re- 
turned Tom, “ because it will soon be crowded with 
patients, if things turn out as they promise.” 

“ I was asking Doctor Jacques,” continued Lu- 
cille, more gravely, “ and he said he was making 
ready to attend an unlimited number of cases at any 
time, now. His old chief will be back again, and 
the German guns up above are expected to provide 
the patients.” 

Sir Archibald and his wife soon joined them at 
the table. Lucille thought the usually boisterous 
lady acted as though somewhat subdued. Perhaps 
the consciousness that momentous events were im- 
pending had had some such influence on her nature. 


Between Hostile Forces 171 

As for the baronet, he seemed to be perfectly con- 
tented with the way the world was treating him. 

“ I admit that at first I was tempted to complain 
that I was being badly hit, when we found ourselves 
trapped in this beastly country,” he told Tom and 
Lucille as they partook of the meal, “ but since then 
my opinions have changed. I am satisfied that aa 
ambitious war correspondent could hardly wish a 
better position for observing a battle th^n directly 
between the lines.” 

“ But there will be danger,” objected Lucille, hav- 
ing in mind all that Tom had said concerning the 
way the shells would burst over the devoted town, 
and the shrapnel fill the air with whining death. 

“ My word ! where can you go these days, and be 
free from it ? ” he told her, with a whimsical smile. 
“ Even in the streets of London I saw a poor chap 
run down by a bally motor cab, and they carried him 
away to the hospital to die. I am enough of a 
fatalist to believe I shall not give up the ghost until 
my time comes.” 

The meal was enlivened by anecdotes of Sir 
Archibald’s former experiences, when he had risked 
every sort of peril in the pursuit of the calling that 
had been the passion of his earlier years. But it 
was mostly his wife who mentioned these things, for 
Sir Archibald declared that they were hardly worth 
talking about. 

“ Shall we take that last little walk around, 


172 Between the Lines in France 

Tom?” asked Lucille, after they had left the din- 
ing-room, and stood once more on the veranda. 

Before answering Tom looked carefully around. 
He evidently wished to make sure that there had 
been no change in the situation since his last survey. 

“ I don’t see any objection,” he finally observed, 
“ if only we keep away from those further hills, 
where we happen to know the Germans are work- 
ing on their trenches. Sir Archibald declares they 
use cement to build them, and that when finished 
they are the most complete things he ever saw, with 
places for sleeping and eating, as well as platforms 
from which to fire.” 

“ I can see that you’d like to inspect one, Tom, 
but I hope you will never get the chance. I’ve seen 
about all of the Germans I care to. You know 
I’ve always had a leaning for our father’s people, 
who were of French descent. To me all Germans 
are next to boors, because I don’t understand them. 
But if you’re ready, let’s start out.” 

Not a cloud seemed to be in the heavens when 
they left the inn, expecting to cover a certain 
stretch of ground which had become very familiar 
to them during the days of their stay. Nor could 
they dream of the strange happenings that were to 
be their portion before they again came in contact 
with that same vine-covered hospital building, to- 
ward which they cast a glance as they strolled 
away. 


Between Hostile Forces 173 

As they walked they talked of many things — * 
their far distant home, the prospect of getting back 
to Paris, the possibility that their absent young 
friends in Belgium, Austria and Germany might 
also be having serious troubles, and last but far 
from least the amusing doings of the strangely 
assorted couple whose acquaintance they had made 
under such remarkable conditions. 

“ Perhaps we have gone far enough,” suggested 
Lucille, after half an hour had elapsed. 

They were on the edge of a wood that extended 
over the first rise. Beyond this the second and 
superior ridge stood out against the sky line, high 
enough to afford a splendid base for any army de- 
sirous of remaining on the defensive. 

“ I wanted to go as far as that cool little spring 
we know about, and that’s why I brought this tin 
cup along,” Tom remonstrated; “ but if you’re feel- 
ing tired and would like to rest a little, suppose you 
sit down here and wait for me.” 

“ Just as you say, Tom, if only you promise to 
bring me a cup of the spring water. I can watch 
you go along to where it gushes from under those 
white rocks. Every time you look back I’ll wave 
my handkerchief, and ask you a question, which 
you might answer, if you feel like it. Trot along 
now; I’ll be good and rested for the return trip 
when you come back.” 

“ You promise not to move away from here, 


174 Between the Lines in France 

where I can see you?” he asked, a little hesitation 
showing in his words and manner. 

She laughed at him then. 

“ Not if I know what I want, and I think I do. 
Don’t you dare upset that cup on the path up here, 
or perhaps I’ll send you back again for more.” 

So Tom started off. He was whistling to him- 
self as he went along. What if away up there on 
the heights those wonderful Germans had built 
themselves a fortified line from which they meant 
to defy the Allies? What if the French were 
slowly coming up, and must soon reach the point 
where they would be able to open on the line of 
hills with their big guns? That was something 
indefinite, and in the future. The present looked 
calm and serene; why should a fellow get lines 
across his forehead by taking on unnecessary 
worry ? 

So Tom told himself as he went along. He 
looked back twice as he covered the ground lying 
between the woods and the crystal spring. Each 
time Lucille kept her word, and waved to him. He 
read the words she spelled out and even sent back 
an answer. 

After that he did not think to look back until he 
was very near the spring, and then upon turning 
he saw that she was waving her handkerchief furi- 
ously. Something in the manner in which she did 
this struck a note of dismay to the boy’s heart. 


Between Hostile Forces 175 

Standing there, and shutting his teeth grimly as 
he steadied his nerves against a shock, Tom Mail- 
lard translated every flourish of that swiftly-mov- 
ing white handkerchief until he had made out the 
•whole message. It read as follows: 

“ Take care — men creeping up on you — don’t 
try to run, Tom! ” 

He had just succeeded in making out that last 
word, and was still shivering with the anxiety he 
had felt concerning Lucille, when a gruff voice 
called out something in French, and, wheeling, Tom 
found himself covered by several rifles gripped in 
the hands of men who wore baggy red trousers — 
French soldiers of the line! 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A PRISONER OF WAR 

Fortunately Tom did not lose his head. He 
knew that if he made any sort of hostile move one 
of those fierce looking fellows in the red trousers, 
and with the knapsacks on their backs, might press 
a finger on a trigger. 

Some instinct it must have been that caused the 
boy to immediately elevate both his hands as high 
as he could get them. Tom had never been held 
up before, except possibly by some of his comrades 
in a snowball fight, but he knew that this attitude 
was accepted the world over as a signal of surrender. 

“ Hey! hold on there, don’t shoot! ” he called out. 

Perhaps they understood his words, and then 
again it might be otherwise; but his actions could 
not be misconstrued. So the men in the baggy red 
trousers advanced, still covering him with their 
guns. 

“ Must take me for a pretty dangerous sort,” 
Tom told himself, when he saw how careful they 
were not to let him go unguarded for even a second. 

Two of them laid their guns down, and advanced. 
In another minute they had laid rough hands on the 
lad, and he found his arms whipped behind his back, 
176 


A Prisoner of War 177 

where they were immediately fastened together 
at the wrists with an old piece of rope. 

There was more or less chattering going on while 
this operation was being carried out. Tom listened, 
and tried the best he knew how to grasp the mean- 
ing of what his captors were saying. 

“ Now this is mighty queer,” he told himself, 
when he found that the task seemed to be beyond 
him ; “ why should they think I’m such a dangerous 
chap when those Germans didn’t bother? Maybe 
I don’t wish Lucille was here to tell me what in 
the dickens all this fuss is about.” 

Watching closer, he saw that they had taken his 
handkerchief, and were waving it, even as Lucille 
had been doing with hers just before his capture. 

“ Oh ! now I know what it’s all about ! ” ex- 
claimed Tom, with a sickly little grin. “ They 
must have seen us exchanging signals, and the silly 
geese believe that we were trying to let the Germans 
up on the hills know about the French being down 
here. But how am I going to tell them what it 
meant — that’s what bothers me ? ” 

Just then the non-commissioned officer in charge 
of the squad of French soldiers gave a sharp order. 
Immediately two of the men detached themselves 
from the rest and started off. Their manner was 
so suggestive that Tom felt a sudden cold feeling 
grip his heart. 

“ Oh ! they have been sent out to capture the one 


178 Between the Lines in France 

I was signaling to,” he muttered. “ Couldn’t they 
see that it was only a girl? What if Lucille tries 
to run away when she sees them coming? Will 
they shoot at her ? ” 

The very thought made Tom feel weak about the 
knees. He determined to try and explain matters 
to the fierce looking sergeant. 

It was easy enough to attract the man’s attention, 
but when it came to making him understand what 
he was saying Tom found himself up against a 
tough proposition. 

In vain did he pour out a torrent of words, tell- 
ing just who he was, and that it was only his sister 
with whom he was carrying on an innocent method 
of communication. 

He kicked the tin cup with his toe as it lay on 
the ground near by, trying to explain that he was 
on his way to get a drink at the time, and meant 
to fetch the cup full of water back to his sister. 

The sergeant may not have been a dense man, 
but he certainly failed to grasp anything that Tom 
was trying to tell him. He frowned, and shook his 
head, rattling off a lot of French that of course was 
just as incomprehensible to the boy as his English 
had been to the sergeant. 

Then another of the soldiers was called up, a 
small wiry man, who may at some time or other 
have prided himself on being able to speak a little 


A Prisoner of War 179 

English. Tom, not to be daunted, again went 
through his little speech. The soldier watched his 
face eagerly, and then nodded his head, after which 
he turned to his chief and gave vent to a volley of 
French. 

Instead of mending matters it seemed to Tom 
this only made things worse. He saw the frown 
on the sergeant’s wrinkled face grow more serious ; 
the man certainly looked at him as though he were 
now positive he had caught a prize, the capture of 
which would put him in high favor among his su- 
periors. 

“ It’s no use,” groaned Tom; “ the more I try to 
explain the deeper I seem to get stuck in the mud. 
The only hope I can see is that they fetch sis here 
right away. She can talk French, and will 
straighten things out in a jiffy.” 

He hugged that hope to his heart, but only for a 
brief time. Then he saw that the men seemed about 
to move away. 

“ Why, they don’t act as though they meant to 
stay here till the others get back with sis ! ” he mut- 
tered, in dismay, “ and I suppose they’ll be taking 
me off with them, too! Well, all I can hope is, 
that sooner or later we run across a man who can 
speak English; or else some British soldier. I be- 
lieve these sillies take me for a German spy ! ” 

He did not know what to do; indeed, since he 


180 Between the Lines in France 

was completely in the power of the French soldiers, 
Tom realized that he had no chance to do anything, 
except what they ordered him. 

“ Anyway,” he resolved, “ I’ll try to put on a 
smiling face, and not look as though I’d lost my last 
friend. It’s all going to come out right, some way, 
that’s sure. But if only I knew Lucille was safe 
I’d feel a heap easier. Oh! yes, I’m coming, so 
don’t prod me with that bayonet. You’ve got me in 
a bad fix, and I don’t like it a bit.” 

With the men around him, Tom was compelled 
to march away. He could not of course tell where 
they were taking him, but hoped it would be to the 
main body of troops. That seemed to be his reli- 
ance, for surely there must be many among the 
French who could understand what he had been try- 
ing so hard to explain to this slow-witted sergeant. 

“ I wonder if I’ll see that wonderful General 
Joffre again,” he asked himself, as memory carried 
him back to that day when on the boulevard of 
Paris he had stood so close to the grim warrior 
whom the crowd had delighted to honor, and with 
whom their friend, Monsieur Armand, seemed to 
be acquainted. 

Before long Tom made a discovery. Over yon- 
der was an odd mound of earth, he thought. It 
was apparently freshly made, too, and from this he 
guessed it must mark the position of some French 


A Prisoner of War 181 

gun that was being trained on the German entrench- 
ments only a few miles distant. 

Yes, as they drew somewhat closer Tom could see 
men moving about, and then he even glimpsed a 
long gray object that gleamed in the sun’s rays like 
steel. 

“ They are getting ready to open fire on the 
Germans,” he told himself. “ Yes, all along I can 
see other mounds like that, and behind them men 
hurrying about, with horses galloping like mad. 
It’s coming soon; and I’m afraid we’ve waited just 
one day too long.” 

Now they came to a regiment of French soldiers. 
They were lying down on the bare earth and seemed 
to be resting after a long march. Perhaps the men 
in whose charge Tom found himself belonged to 
this regiment; at least they were greeted with all 
manner of exclamations, and were kept busy mak- 
ing replies as they pushed on. 

Tom made a discovery that did not please him. 
He noticed that after his captors had called out 
something the men around scowled blackly at him; 
some even made suggestive gestures, as if to signify 
that hanging would be too good for him. 

“ That’s the worst of not knowing how to defend 
yourself,” grumbled the boy as he saw these hostile 
demonstrations. “ I bet you now they’re telling all 
sorts of yarns about what I was caught doing, just 


1 82 Between the Lines in France 


to make it seem a bigger thing that they captured 
me.” 

In vain he looked to right and left in the hope 
of descrying one friendly face. 

“ Is there any one here who can talk English ? ” 
he started to say, when a rough hand was clapped 
over his mouth, and he was given to understand 
that a prisoner of war must not utter a single word 
unless asked a question. 

Tom was half-tempted to insist on calling out; 
but common sense told him he would surely be in- 
jured by these men if he went against orders. 

“ They all believe I was trying to betray their 
position to the Germans,” he thought, “ and that’s 
what makes them look at me as they do. What 
part of France can they come from, not to know 
English? If I could only tell them I’m an Ameri- 
can boy, and that it was only my sister who was 
waving to me ! But it’s no use ; they are determined 
not to let me say a single word.” 

He was hustled through the regiment, and soon 
found himself beyond the trenches. They were 
being hastily dug by an army of eager men, the deep 
ditch being partly covered over on top, so as to 
afford a protection against the hail of shrapnel that 
would presently be strewn far and wide by the 
German field guns on the hills. 

And now a new fear began to grip Tom’s heart. 
He wondered if these grim soldiers could be intend- 


A Prisoner of War 183 

ing to take him to the rear to execute him! The 
thought gave the boy a chill. He tried to laugh it 
off, but somehow he could not. 

“ Oh ! they wouldn’t do such a thing as that,” he 
told himself. “ This is war, and soldiers do all 
sorts of terrible things when in the heat of battle; 
but Frenchmen would never be guilty of shooting 
a boy without giving him at least a chance to tell 
his story.” 

Tom had read about the military tribunal organ- 
ized on the field in order to try an accused person. 
He knew that always this “ drum-head ” court was 
composed of officers. 

“ They’ll have sense, at least, and be able to talk 
with me,” he concluded, with a sigh ; “ only I wish 
.things would hurry along. I’m worried about sis, 
too. I wish I knew it was all right with her. 
Hello! what are they going to do with me now, 
I wonder? ” 

They had come to a halt before a house that 
seemed to be above the ordinary. Tom had never 
chanced to wander in this direction before, and 
therefore had not set eyes on the building up to 
then; but he could see it was a mansion belonging 
to some one of considerable means. 

Just then it was apparently deserted. The owner 
may have fled when the war broke out, or having 
to join the colors he might have sent his family 
south, and shut up the house. 


184 Between the Lines in France 

It seemed as though the French soldiers had 
broken into the building, and that it was being used 
as a sort of headquarters for the regiment nearby; 
perhaps as a military prison besides. 

At any rate Tom was led through the open door- 
way, and was presently ushered into a room, where 
he saw that the heavy outside shutters were closed, 
and probably nailed tight. 

His captors said something to him, which of 
course he could not understand; after which they 
cut the fragment of rope that bound his hands, and 
shoving him back, closed the door. Tom heard a 
sentry walking up and down outside, and knew that 
he was to remain a prisoner for an indefinite time. 

He sank to the floor, and tried to consider what 
his next best move should be, and whether it might 
be wise in him to attempt escape, if the chance of- 
fered. Only for his dread concerning Lucille he 
would have settled upon what course to pursue. 
While her fate was unknown he did not dare try 
to flee, lest by this course he should be deserting 
the one whom he was bound to defend. 

It was some time later, and Tom still sat there, 
pondering on his wretched condition, when without 
warning a terrible concussion made the building 
tremble as if an earthquake had occurred. He 
knew from that the bombardment of the German 
positions on the hills had commenced. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE LITTLE COMFORTER 

“ Of all the tough luck, this takes the cake,” 
Tom told himself, as crash followed crash, while 
the house shook as though threatening to come 
down. “ Here’s a regular artillery duel going on 
all around me, and a fellow can’t see a single thing. 
When you’ve got the name you like to have the 
game, too. I wonder if I could find a peep-hole 
anywhere.” 

Spurred by curiosity, and a desire to see what a 
real battle was like, Tom visited every window in 
the room. He glued his eye to each crack at which 
daylight struggled in, but his success was far from 
satisfying. 

“ Hang it ! I can’t glimpse anything except a 
lot of smoke ! ” he exclaimed in sheer disgust, as 
he gave up the attempt. 

If anything the concussions seemed to increase 
in volume. They came from either side, and for 
lack of .anything else to make the minutes pass 
without dragging, Tom finally tried to place each 
discharge. 

“ My ! but they’re spoiling a heap of powder,” 
he remarked. “ I wonder what it stands for up 
185 


1 86 Between the Lines in France 

there on the hills, where the Kaiser’s army is hiding 
back of their trenches. If the Germans are bang- 
ing away ditto, it must be pretty warm outside. 
I wish I knew about that ! ” 

This gave him a new occupation. By listening 
steadily he was soon able to hear faraway booming ; 
though whether French or German guns caused this 
Tom of course was not in a position to decide. 

“ But what’s that queer sound like the rattle of 
hail on the roof?” he asked himself, between two 
furious outbursts of cannonading. “ I wonder if 
that could be the shrapnel I’ve heard so much 
about? They send it with a fuse that allows the 
shell to burst in the air just in front of the trenches 
or lines of crouching troops; and the force of the 
explosion sends hundreds of little bullets darting 
downward for dozens of yards.” 

Many times did he hear this strange pattering 
sound; and from this Tom judged that the foe on 
the elevation must be replying to the bombardment 
of the Allies, gun for gun. 

One hour — two, passed. 

Tom began to wonder how long this thing was 
going to keep up. Somehow among other matters 
of interest that kept coming into his mind, he 
thought of that exposed French town in the valley, 
with the rival armies on either side, and a storm 
of shot and shell passing back and forth continu- 
ously. 


The Little Comforter 187 

“ I’m afraid it’ll be as Uncle Alvin said,” Tom 
observed aloud, regretfully ; “ and even the Red 
Cross floating from the hospital won’t save it from 
random shells. If any of the French soldiers hide 
behind the houses of the town the Germans will 
claim they had a right to smash the walls down, 
so as to uncover the snipers. It’s just awful, that’s 
what war is ! ” 

Tom had many things to worry him just then. 
There was Lucille for one; then Uncle Alvin, left 
in the hospital, which might even then be crumbling 
in ruins; and as if these were not enough he al- 
lowed his thoughts to fly far afield to Belgium, 
in which country he knew those good friends of 
his, Mart and Harvey Dorr, had been visiting at 
the time the war cloud burst so suddenly. 

Somehow this last caused Tom to give a queer 
little chuckle. 

“ I’ve been picturing poor Harvey,” he burst out 
with, “ shut up in a damp Belgian dungeon, just 
on account of his taking pictures that were forbid- 
den; and say, here I am a prisoner of war, held by 
our friends, the French, my father’s own people, 
and even suspected of being a German spy! Well, 
this is the limit ! ” 

There was a rattling sou*nd at the door just then, 
and Tom whirled around. Perhaps a fear clutched 
at the boy’s heart that his rough captors might be 
coming to lead him out to execution. He set his 


1 88 Between the Lines in France 

teeth hard together, and drew in a long breath, as 
though resolved that they would at least not hear 
a whimper from his lips. 

As the door opened partly some one was thrust 
inside. Tom’s heart gave a throb, for he believed 
he had glimpsed a familiar little figure. 

“ Lucille ! ” he exclaimed, in a state of suspense, 
lest his hopes had deceived him. 

“Oh! Tom, is that you?” he heard her half- 
sob; and in another second brother and sister were 
together. 

The girl had her little cry out on Tom’s shoulder, 
while he soothed her the best way a clumsy boy 
could. 

“ It isn’t that I’ve been hurt at all, Tom,” she 
explained ; “ don’t worry about that. But I’m so 
indignant, and so angry to think those foolish sol- 
diers who made me come along with them wouldn’t 
believe a word I told them. All they could say, 
with their bows and shrugs, was that they had been 
ordered to fetch me here. They even gave me to 
understand that I could tell my story to their colo- 
nel, or the marines, or somebody or other. But 
I’m so glad I’ve found you, Tom. Tell me, have 
you been hurt in any way ? ” 

“ Not at all, sis, only in my feelings,” he assured 
her. “ Just as you say, it’s a horrible thing to feel 
that you’re looked on as a spy, and by French sol- 
diers, too, the very men we’ve always felt for, 


The Little Comforter 189 

because we’ve got French blood in our veins. But 
you must have seen something of the battle? ” 

He could feel her shudder. 

“ Yes, and it’s just dreadful — dreadful,” she 
told him. “ Everywhere I looked I could see bil- 
lows of smoke shooting out, as guns were fired. 
The noise was enough to deafen you; and oh! how 
wicked the flashes of fire seemed. And then, there 
were shells bursting and throwing the dirt as high 
as the treetops. Up in the air I could see any num- 
ber of puffs of smoke that they told me came from 
shrapnel exploding.” 

“To think of all that going on, and I shut up 
here as blind as a mole, when I’d give heaps and 
heaps just to see it for once! ” groaned Tom. 

“And oh! Tom, I even saw men lying on the 
ground where they’d been thrown when they were 
struck ! ” Lucille continued, in a hushed voice. 
“ Three different times we met men with red 
crosses on their sleeves. They were carrying 
stretchers, and on them were wounded soldiers. It 
was terrible! But, Tom, no matter how badly 
those brave fellows were injured, they laughed and 
called out and even waved their hands as though 
they thought all this the best of fun. One even 
kissed his hand to me.” 

“ The French are a brave people,” ventured Tom, 
with a touch of pride in his tone, “ and they make 
good fighters.” 


190 Between the Lines in France 

“ Oh! listen to that, Tom! ” 

“ Yes, that shell must have burst pretty near this 
house,” he replied, uneasily. “ I hope they haven’t 
started using this mansion as a range finder.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” Lucille asked 
him. 

“ Why,” explained Tom, “ often when a battery 
wants to bombard the trenches of an enemy they 
look for some object that stands out plainly. 
Then a shell is fired, and through their glasses the 
officers determine just where the fuse causes it to 
burst. After that they can fix their shells so that 
they’ll break just where they will be apt to do the 
most good. A church steeple is seen miles away, 
and makes the best kind of a range finder.” 

“ You think, then, they can see this house away 
up there, and are using it as a target, so as to get 
the range for the trenches ; is that it, Tom ? ” 

“ Seems like it,” he replied; “ but let’s hope 
they’re already satisfied with results, and will leave 
us alone. I don’t suppose you know anything 
about the town, and whether it’s being shelled ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” she told him, uneasily. “ I 
looked back lots of times, and it seemed to me there 
was smoke above the place where I remembered it 
lay. The battle of the big guns is going on for 
miles and miles. As far away as I could see it was 
the same. The whole earth kept shaking with the 
awful noise.” 


The Little Comforter 


191 

“ Poor uncle ! ” muttered Tom, before he knew 
what he was saying, and then he was sorry, for Lu- 
cille had caught his words. 

“ Do you think he will suffer, Tom? ” she asked, 
with a sigh. “ Surely both the Germans and the 
French will respect that noble symbol of the Red 
Cross that flies from the hospital. If uncle only 
stayed there he could escape all danger.” 

“ I hope so,” returned Tom, trying to put on a 
brave front; “ and besides, if it does get too warm 
they can take their patients into the cellars. Let’s 
make up our minds uncle will be all right. We’ve 
got enough to worry about ourselves, seems to me.” 

“ Oh ! ” the girl exclaimed, eagerly, “ when I get 
a chance to explain to some one who is a gentleman, 
and not just a clod-hopper of a boor from the farm, 
I can easily prove we are what we claim. At the 
worst it will only mean we may have to spend a 
night here, Tom. And we might be worse off.” 

Another terrific roar came close by, as a shell 
bursting caused Tom to jump. 

“ Yes,” he remarked, with a nervous little laugh, 
“ there are lots of worse places than inside this 
house, I guess. If any poor fellows were near that 
bomb when it scattered death around they found it 
so. And for one I mean to stop grumbling. When 
we look back later on we’ll see how it was all for 
the best, like as not.” 

“ That sounds more like you, Tom,” his sister 


192 Between the Lines in France 

told him, as she patted his hand lovingly, both being 
seated in an embrasure of one of the deep windows. 

“ What time do you think it is? ” he asked, after 
another spell of listening had passed, with the dread- 
ful roar outside not slackening a particle. 

“ Just before we got here,” she told him, “ I no- 
ticed that the sun was about two hours high above 
the ridge we could see, far off to the west.” 

“ Well, as it sets around seven these summer 
days that would make it something like five or half- 
past right now,” Tom asserted. “ I hope they won’t 
forget that we can get hungry, even if we are pris- 
oners of war.” 

“ I couldn’t eat a bite if I was paid for it, I feel 
so terribly about uncle, and those poor women and 
children in that town over there,” said Lucille, who 
had a gentle heart. 

“ Oh ! well, I suppose boys are different,” her 
brother observed, as though he considered some sort 
of apology necessary. “ It’s got to be something 
mighty severe that takes away my appetite, let me 
tell you. But just before they put you in here, I 
was wondering whether I could find any way of es- 
caping.” 

“ Would it be the right thing to do? ” she asked 
him. 

“ But what business have they to hold Americans 
prisoners? We have a right to get away if the 
chance opens up,” protested Tom, stubbornly. 


The Little Comforter 


193 


“If we should, Tom, it will look as though we 
were guilty,’’ she told him, gravely. “ And, then, 
besides, what if we were fired on? They might 
shoot you before we had a chance to explain things. 
Oh ! let’s stay right here, and wait for them to take 
us before officers who can understand.” 

“ Perhaps you’re right,” admitted Tom, a bit 
unwillingly; “I’m only afraid that silly sergeant 
may make it seem a great deal worse than it is.” 

“ But why should he, Tom? ” 

“ Oh ! I don’t know, except that he wants to play 
hero, and have it look as though he’d made a won- 
derful capture. Two babes in the woods, more like, 
I say. Why, nothing could tempt a Maillard to be- 
tray France. I’d sooner cut my hand off than to 
think of such a thing.” 

“ Well, let’s believe it’s all going to come out right 
by to-morrow morning,” she continued, in her 
soothing way; and then shrank against Tom in a 
huddled heap, for there had come a frightful crash, 
accompanied by a quiver of the walls, and the sound 
of falling plaster and beams. 

“ There,” said Tom, with a gasp ; “ they’ve gone 
and done it at last, just as I told you. That was a 
shell, and it knocked a corner of the house to flin- 
ders, I guess ! ” 


CHAPTER XX 


THE LONG NIGHT 

“ Do you think the worst is over, Tom?” asked 
the girl. 

“ It is, so far as that shell goes,” he replied, re- 
assuringly, as he put his arm around her protect- 
ingly. 

“But there may be others to come?” she con- 
tinued, apprehensively. 

“ That’s so ; but let’s hope not.” 

“ They’ve got the range of this house,” she told 
him. 

“ It looks like it, unless that was an accidental 
shot. Besides,” Tom went on, “ why should they 
want to waste ammunition on a single house, when 
they’d better be slamming a few of their old shells 
in the trenches where the French soldiers are hid- 
ing? I only hope they don’t turn one of those 
awful howitzers we’ve heard so much about on us.” 
(See Note 8.) 

“ They’ve been looking this way through their 
glasses, and have seen soldiers moving around here,” 
Lucille suggested. “ Perhaps they believe this 
house is being used as headquarters for the Allies’ 
staff.” 


194 


The Long Night 195 

“ Whew ! I hope they don’t get that silly notion 
into their heads,” muttered Tom, “ for they’d knock 
every wall to splinters. One thing I wish, which 
is that we could only find a way to get out of 
here.” 

The minutes dragged along. There was no ces- 
sation of the heavy cannonading, both near and far; 
but the prisoners of the deserted mansion were re- 
lieved that no second shell struck their shelter. 

When an hour had passed Lucille ventured to 
voice her hopes. 

“ It looks now as if we might get through; don’t 
you think so, Tom? ” she asked. 

“ Must be getting close to quitting time,” he ad- 
mitted, cheerfully. “ As a rule I believe they don’t 
do much night firing, because they find it hard to 
keep the range, and it would be a waste of valu- 
able ammunition.” 

“ Tom, I do believe they’re slackening right 
now ! ” cried Lucille, eagerly. 

“ Yes, since you mention it, seems as though there 
wasn’t as much racket as we’ve been listening to. 
That terrible gun on our left hasn’t gone off for 
quite a little while. I guess the circus is over until 
daybreak.” 

“ Oh ! I’m so glad ! ” sighed the girl. 

“ Shake hands on it, because it seems to me we’ve 
been playing in great luck after all. Lots of things 
might have happened that didn’t, you know ! ” 


196 Between the Lines in France 

“ Tom, I’ve been looking around here while we 
had some daylight,” Lucille told him, presently. 

“ Yes, and what of it? ” he demanded. 

“ Why, in case they keep us shut up here all night, 
which looks likely, we could fix things so as to be 
fairly comfy, Tom.” 

“ I warrant we can, if you have the management,” 
he replied. “ But keep on explaining. Do you 
mean that we might be able to coax them to give us 
some supper?” 

“ Oh ! there you are again, thinking of eating,” 
she scolded him ; “ though for your sake I do hope 
they will remember us with a bite or two. But I 
was thinking of how we might manage to sleep.” 

“ Yes, that’s right, we ought to have a few winks, 
of course,” he agreed. 

“ There’s an old sofa, or couch, in that corner that 
would do splendidly for one, Tom,” the girl con- 
tinued, as though keeping tally with her fingers as 
she mentioned the extent of her observations. 

“ Why, so there is, I do believe,” said the boy; 
“ though to tell you the truth I hadn’t paid much at- 
tention to the contents of the room. I was think- 
ing more about the chances of a shell dropping in 
on us ; or how I could find a way to crawl out of the 
ruins if the house were smashed.” 

“ Keep on and say that you were also worrying 
about whether you would have to go to bed with- 


The Long Night 197 

out your supper. I’ve known you to do that more 
than once at home, when you did something that 
father had forbidden. But besides the couch there’s 
a sort of easy-chair in here that wouldn’t make a bad 
place to sleep.” 

“ I choose the chair, then,” decided Tom. “ You 
know I was always partial to going to sleep in one 
at home, after a hard day on the diamond, or play- 
ing hockey on the ice. You can have the couch and 
welcome.” 

“ That’s kind of you, Tom,” she told him, patting 
his hand ; “ but listen ; what can that be ? Some- 
body is coming, I do believe ! ” 

“ Well, it’s about supper-time, anyway,” mut- 
tered the boy. 

Presently the door opened, to admit several sol- 
diers. One bore a lantern, which he set on the floor ; 
while another had a tin dish of some sort, from 
which steam was rising. 

“ Bully for them! ” exclaimed the delighted Tom; 
“ they don’t mean to starve us to death, anyhow. 
If I must drop off I’d rather have it over sudden. 
Give me a bursting shell every time, rather than 
slow torture from having nothing to eat.” 

Lucille tried to talk with the men. She wanted 
to coax them to take a message to their commander- 
in-chief, telling him that they were Americans, tour- 
ists who had been caught between the lines of the 


198 Between the Lines in France 

hostile armies by hard luck, whose only desire was 
to get away from the fighting zone as soon as they 
could. 

Evidently the three men had their orders, for none 
would reply. They shrugged their shoulders in 
French fashion, spread out the palms of their hands, 
as though to express their inability to assist her in 
any way, and departed. 

Lucille was disappointed. 

“ I wonder if my French is so very bad, after all,” 
she remarked, disconsolately, when they were again 
left to themselves. 

“ Oh ! I wouldn’t say that,” Tom returned, to 
cheer her up somewhat. “ Seems to me you rattle 
it off like a regular native. But soldiers have to 
obey orders, you know, and just as like as not those 
fellows were commanded not to speak a word.” 

Tom had already discovered that while the con- 
tents of the pan might not be of a very attractive 
order, it was warm food, and had a savory smell. 
Besides, as has been mentioned before, Tom was ac- 
customed to camping out and was not at all par- 
ticular when it came to eating. Quantity rather 
than quality served as his slogan, when he had what 
he called his “ camp appetite ” along. 

After all there was a bit of fun in eating under 
such strange conditions, especially to a couple of ad- 
venturous youngsters like these. They even man- 
aged to joke a little while the rude camp fare van- 


The Long Night 199 

ished. Fortunately there seemed to be sufficient to 
satisfy both, when the pannikin had been emptied. 

It was by this time almost quiet without. The 
furious firing had ceased, although once in a whil % 
far away, they could hear some rumbling sound that 
might be a bridge or a building being blown up for 
strategical reasons. 

No one came to break in upon their solitude, and 
feeling very tired after all the excitement of that 
eventful day, the prisoners finally decided to make 
themselves as comfortable as they could. 

Lucille was lodged upon the couch, and Tom even 
found some sort of covering to spread over her. 

“ Luckily I always carry matches with me/’ he 
told Lucille, “ which is one of the things a fellow 
who learns woodcraft and scouting picks up. So 
I’ll just douse the glim here. If we should happen 
to want a light between now and morning I’ll be in 
a fair way to get it.” 

It was indeed a long night, and one never to be 
forgotten. Tom slept by snatches. It seemed to 
him as though every hour he would awaken, when it 
became his habit to lift his head, listen attentively, 
and then, on finding that Lucille seemed to be sleep- 
ing soundly, change his cramped position, and drop 
off again. 

Lucille had insisted that he draw the big grand- 
father chair over close to the couch. She wanted to 
know that he was there, for in this way she could 


200 Between the Lines in France 

put out her hand and touch him, if she awoke dur- 
ing the night, and found herself nervous. 

Morning came at last. 

So little light struggled into the barricaded room 
that it must have been after sunrise before Tom, 
sitting up, saw Lucille looking at him. 

“ You were making the funniest sounds,” she told 
him, “ just as though you couldn’t get your breath. 
I had to laugh at first, but was beginning to think I 
ought to shake you when open went your eyes.” 

“ That’s right,” Tom remarked, with a dry 
chuckle ; “ I guess I must have been a little shy on 
wind, because you see I was making a record dive 
in a water tournament at home, and just came up 
when I woke. But there seems to be a lot of bustle 
going on outside.” 

“ I’ve heard horses neighing, and the rumble of 
some heavy vehicles for quite a while now,” Lucille 
told him. 

“ Then some more of the artillery of the Allies 
must have come up and I guess they’re rushing the 
guns into position as fast as they can.” 

“ That means more terrible firing than ever, 
doesn’t it ? ” Lucille asked. 

“ Just what it does,” was the reply. “ The Ger- 
mans have turned at bay over there, and it looks as 
if they didn’t mean to retreat a rod further. The 
fight along this line may last a whole week, for all 
anybody can say.” 


201 


The Long Night 

“ But battles never used to take that long when 
Napoleon and Grant led their armies, did they, 
Tom? ” 

“ Of course not, but conditions have changed since 
those days,” he explained to her, from his superior 
knowledge of such things. (See Note 9.) 

Perhaps Tom might have been inclined to con- 
tinue on the subject, to which he had really devoted 
considerable attention, only that just then the door 
opened, and the same three soldiers appeared. 

When Tom discovered that one of them bore some 
breakfast for the prisoners, he very naturally lost 
all interest in abstract matters pertaining to ancient 
and modern wars. Other things much more impor- 
tant demanded his attention. 

This time the three soldiers stood back, and 
seemed to be waiting for them to finish their meal. 
Tom noticed this fact and commented on it. 

“ I really believe they mean to take us somewhere 
when we’re done,” he told his sister, which informa- 
tion of course interested Lucille not a little. 

“ All I hope is,” she announced, “ that they lead 
us to some one in authority, who will listen to what 
I’m trying to explain. If I could only convince him 
that we’re Americans, and neutrals in this horrid 
war, he might say we could go free. It’s a burn- 
ing shame that we should be treated this way.” 

“ Sure it is,” agreed Tom, “ and you make it just 
as strong as you know how. Every time you look 


202 Between the Lines in France 

at me I’ll nod my head. We must pull together, and 
try to get out of this trap.” 

When they had finished eating one of the French 
soldiers bowed politely and addressing Lucille said : 

“ Pardon, ma’m’selle, but we have orders to take 
you both before our commanding officers. The ser- 
geant will be there to tell why you were taken pris- 
oners. So prepare to go with us.” 

“ Tell him we’ll be only too glad,” cried Tom, 
when this had been translated by Lucille. At the 
same time he scrambled to his feet. 

So they were led forth. The sun was well abpve 
the horizon, though the firing seemed to be only be- 
ginning in the distance. Tom was glad of this, for 
he could see all around him evidences to prove that 
considerable damage had been done by the rain of 
shells coming from the hills beyond. 

Glancing back they discovered that one wing of 
the mansion lay in ruins, which in itself was mute 
evidence of the terrible power of those great Ger- 
man shells when they struck any object. 


CHAPTER XXI 


IN THE HEADQUARTERS TENT 

“ Yes, we ought to be thankful,” Lucille observed, 
and from this remark Tom knew that she too must 
have observed the wreck caused by that one shell. 

“ It would have smashed the main body of the 
house to pieces if it had struck there,” declared 
Tom. 

There were many other evidences of the previous 
afternoon’s rain of shells, for here and there they 
could see fearful holes in the ground where explo- 
sions had occurred. 

Soldiers were hurrying this way and that by 
scores. Evidently they were accomplishing all 
necessary changes before the firing opened, for that 
would make exposure along the trenches dangerous. 

“ Look, Tom,” said the girl, suddenly, “ isn’t that 
a British Tommy standing over there, smoking his 
pipe ? ” 

“ It certainly must be,” the boy replied, after a 
glance ; “ he’s wearing khaki, and that’s what none 
of the French do so far, you know. They’re away 
behind the times in dress, though as brave as they 
can be. Somehow they fancy those blooming red 
trousers so much they won’t discard ’em.” 

203 


204 Between the Lines in France 

“ But they say they can be seen five times as far 
away as the green gray of the Germans, or the khaki 
of the British,” Lucille remarked. 

“ Oh ! it was only during the Boer war that the 
British learned what we knew long before, over on 
our side of the water. They used to wear red coats, 
you remember. But those Boers with their long- 
range rifles taught them a lesson. Since then 
they’ve dressed differently.” 

“ I’m glad to see we’re being taken back from the 
trenches, Tom.” 

“ That’s so, which I reckon is because the Head- 
quarters staff know better than to stick around 
where those German gunners can draw a bead on 
them. They’d glimpse the flag that always flies over 
Headquarters, miles away; and every gun within 
range would keep battering away at that point.” 

“ I can see some tents off there,” Lucille an- 
nounced presently. 

“ Yes, and that extra big one must be where the 
commander-in-chief has his quarters.” 

“ I only hope we’ll find a sensible man there, who 
can understand my American accent,” remarked Lu- 
cille, “ and will see how silly it is to believe we 
could be connected with anything German, we Mail- 
lards.” 

Straight toward the large marquee tent their 
guards led them. A sentry stood at the entrance, 
and words passed between the newcomers and this 


In the Headquarters Tent 205 

man. Then an officer came out, took a look at the 
prisoners, and told them in French to enter. 

“ He doesn’t think we can be dangerous, anyhow,” 
muttered Tom, “ for he never said a word about 
those men keeping alongside.” 

Once inside the big tent they saw that it was in- 
deed Headquarters for this division of the Allies. 
Several officers of high standing had evidently been 
engaged in serious discussion, for they had many 
maps and papers on the camp table at which they 
were sitting. 

“ Thunder ! there’s that grizzled old sergeant who 
captured me,” whispered Tom; “ I don’t like his 
looks a bit. He wants to make out that he’s done 
something worth getting the Legion of Honor for, 
and he looks dangerous when he eyes us.” 

The officers were looking them over. Evidently 
they were surprised to see such a young pair of spies 
brought before them. Perhaps from what the am- 
bitious sergeant had said they expected to see some- 
thing far different. 

Tom noticed that some of them exchanged looks, 
and even nodded. 

“ I hope,” he told himself, “ that doesn’t mean 
they’re ready to believe the worst of us. I’m glad 
I’ve got those letters along with me, to prove we’re 
what we claim. But a whole lot depends on Lucille ; 
and I hope she can convince them we ought to be set 
free.” 


206 Between the Lines in France 


One of the officers addressed Lucille. 

“ We have been informed that you speak French, 
ma’m’selle ; is it so ? ” he asked. 

“ I learned it in school over in America,” she told 
him, modestly ; “ my pronunciation is faulty, I know, 
but I can understand it better than I can speak it.” 

“ Then when this sergeant is told to explain just 
what the conditions were that resulted in the capture 
of your brother and yourself, you can follow what 
he says, can you not? ” 

“ I will try to, Monsieur le Colonel ,” the girl told 
him, for she judged what his rank must be from his 
uniform. 

“ Please remember,” continued the officer, more 
kindly it seemed to Tom, who could only guess what 
was said, “ that you must not interrupt the proceed- 
ings on any account.” 

“ I understand, monsieur,” Lucille told him, 
simply. 

“ After he is through,” the officer assured her, 
“ you will be given a chance to explain ; for we find 
it hard to believe that you can be the desperate ene- 
mies of France he states.” 

“ We are Maillards ! ” Lucille said, with such a 
proud manner that it caused a glow to appear in the 
eyes of the soldier, who seemed to have taken the 
task of prosecutor upon himself. 

After that he turned to the sergeant, and appar- 


In the Headquarters Tent 207 

ently demanded that the latter tell what he knew 
about the matter. All of the officers fastened their 
attention on the man, who was more or less nervous, 
but evidently bent on making his part of the capture 
seem as brilliant as possible. 

Tom could not understand what he said. He 
judged that the sergeant must be doing all in his 
power to make it appear black for the prisoners. 
Lucille gasped several times as though shocked at 
some insinuation that she knew to be absolutely 
without foundation. Tom even thought she was 
about to break in and interrupt the story, but ap- 
parently the girl remembered the warning she had 
received, for on each occasion she caught herself in 
time. 

“ What is he saying about us? ” whispered Tom, 
when he could stand the suspense no longer. 

“ Oh ! he is telling the most terrible lies,^ she 
whispered back. “ The contemptible coward ! He 
even says he believes he saw a German officer stand- 
ing on a rock up on the side of the hill; who he 
thinks must have been receiving the messages we 
were sending in relays with our handkerchiefs.” 

That angered Tom more than anything else. 

“ To think that he is a Frenchman, too, and would 
even haye us shot just to get a little glory out of it 
himself ! ” he muttered. “ Well, all I hope is that a 
German shell wipes up the ground with him pretty 


2 o 8 Between the Lines in France 

quick. France has no need of cowards of his make. 
He must have been changed in the cradle, and hasn't 
French blood in his veins at all.” 

About that time the sergeant finished his story. 
It had been brought out by numerous questions on 
the part of the prosecutor, who seemed to know just 
how to manage such a rough customer. 

He now turned toward Lucille. 

“ You have heard the charge against you and your 
brother, ma’m’selle ? ” he asked, and the girl nodded 
her head in the affirmative. “ Now we will listen to 
your story. Be as brief as you can, please, as our 
time is valuable. Tell us who you are, and why you 
are here at this particular time.” 

Lucille drew a long breath. The moment she had 
waited for was now at hand. Still it was hard to 
confine herself to bare facts when her whole body 
thrilled with indignation on account of the accusa- 
tion which had been made against them. 

She started in by telling how, with their uncle and 
a party of friends, they had crossed the Atlantic on 
a vacation tour. Then rapidly she sketched their 
leaving Paris, and their arrival at the little town 
where the sudden news that war had been declared 
by Germany on Russia had thrilled them. 

The officers listened intently. The booming of 
big guns had again started, but they apparently did 
not notice the fact. All fixed their attention on the 
pretty, flushed face of Tom’s sister, as she struggled 


In the Headquarters Tent 209 

to find the proper French words to express what she 
wanted to tell. 

Then came the sudden leaving of the patriotic 
Andre, and how Tom had to take the place of the 
missing chauffeur. After that the story led to the 
accident, when the hurrying French officers ran them 
down at night-time on the road. Last of all she 
told how they had been enabled to reach the town 
in the valley, where Uncle Alvin had been since con- 
fined to the hospital, while they had remained to 
watch over the old gentleman. 

In conclusion she told how her brother Tom be- 
longed to the Boy Scouts in America, and that he 
had taught her more or less of the signal code so 
that it was their habit to transmit little messages to 
one another when the chance arose. 

“ The only Germans we have ever seen over here/’ 
she told them, “ were those Uhlans who entered the 
town, and made the innkeeper give them a dinner. 
And even if they were Uhlans they looked at our let- 
ters, and believed we were Americans, if our folks 
did come from France years and years ago. And 
that is everything I know.” 

Tom had kept his word, for several times when 
Lucille happened to look toward him he took it upon 
himself to nod his head vehemently, as if to back up 
her assertion, though likely enough he might be 
densely ignorant of what she had said. 

He hoped her story had made a favorable im- 


210 Between the Lines in France 

pression on the officers, one of whom at least he be- 
lieved must be a general, and a severe looking man 
at that. 

“ Surely,” Tom told himself, as he saw them bend- 
ing their heads closer together as though consult- 
ing, “ they must believe Lucille when they compare 
her truthful face with that ugly one of the ser- 
geant. But I wish they’d ask to see my letters.” 

He took them out on the spur of the moment, and 
held them so that they might catch the eye of the 
prosecutor. Evidently that officer understood what 
the boy intended to convey, for he at once held out 
his hand, into which Tom hastily crammed the little 
packet. 

The simple look of the envelopes with their Uncle 
Sam stamps and postmarks had been enough for that 
Uhlan. Apparently these Frenchmen were more 
difficult to convince; or else they wished to really 
know more about the prisoners who had been ac- 
cused of communicating with the enemy, the gravest 
offense possible in times of war and invasion. 

“ Good, they’re looking at the letters inside,” Tom 
muttered to Lucille ; “ then it stands to reason they 
can read English, anyway. If they only ask me to 
tell my side of how I was nabbed by that coward 
there, I’d be glad to do it.” 

“Do you think they believed me, Tom?” asked 
Lucille, faintly, as though doubts were already as- 
sailing her mind. 


21 1 


In the Headquarters Tent 

“ Sure they must,” Tom told her. “ They’d be a 
queer lot not to, I say. Anybody could see with one 
eye that you’ve got truth stamped on your face. 
I’ve known you to stand for being punished more’n 
once just because you couldn’t tell even a fib.” 

Lucille sighed again. She was not quite so posi- 
tive as her brother, it seemed, when it came to be- 
lieving that her story and manner had been so con- 
vincing. 

The officers were smiling now. Tom took heart 
at that. 

“ They’ve struck some of those funny things 
Larry wrote in his letter to me,” he told Lucille; 
“ and after that they must certainly believe we’re 
what we claim. I can see that sergeant’s finish al- 
ready, and serve him right. I might excuse his try- 
ing to put it over me, but to try and make out that 
my sister was a German spy is too much.” 

Just then Lucille’s little hand gripped him. 

“ Oh! Tom, now it’s surely going to be all right; 
for look who’s just come in.” 

“ Bully, and again I say bully!” breathed Tom; 
“ for it’s our good friend, Monsieur Armand, and 
one of those officers with him is the same fine sol- 
dier we saw him talking with in Paris — General 
Joffre, the French commander-in-chief!” 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE BATTLE 

Immediately upon the entrance of the little party 
all the officers at the table jumped to their feet, and 
hastened to salute their commander in regulation 
military fashion. 

Of course they forgot all about Tom and Lucille. 
The chances were General Joffre had come here to 
carry out a certain purpose, which could only be for 
serious consultation with other commanders who 
would meet him. 

Just about then it happened that Monsieur Ar- 
mand caught sight of the two figures standing back. 
He was plainly surprised to see them, and it could 
only be pleasure that brought that smile to his face. 

He evidently had nothing to do with the consulta- 
tion that was about to take place, for he at once hur- 
ried over to the young people, with outstretched 
hand. 

“ I am delighted to see you both again,” he said, 
in a low tone, so that he might not interrupt the con- 
versation of the officers. “ But tell me, what does it 
mean that you are here at Headquarters, and look- 
ing so miserable ? ” 

“ Why, it means that we have been arrested, 
212 


The Battle 


213 

charged with being German spies, Monsieur Ar- 
mand ! ” Lucille told him, her eyes flashing indigna- 
tion. 

At that the other seemed to hardly know whether 
to laugh or look serious. 

“ Surely, little ma’m’selle, it must be a silly charge 
to make,” he observed, presently, when he saw that 
the girl was really in earnest. 

“ So I was just telling the colonel there, when he 
asked me for my story,” Lucille continued ; “ but 
that sergeant, who saw us waving our handkerchiefs 
to each other in fun, has made a terrible yarn out 
of whole cloth; to hear him talk you’d believe we 
were monsters. But you can clear us; can’t you. 
Monsieur? You know that we are good Ameri- 
cans, and would sooner die than lift a hand against 
France? ” 

“ To be sure I do,” he assured her; “ and first of 
all tell me what has happened since I last saw you 
— it was in Paris, I believe.” 

“ Yes, and you had just been talking with General 
Joffre, who was an old friend of yours, you said,” 
Lucille continued, eagerly. 

Then as rapidly as she could she sketched what 
the reader already knows, and in much the same 
manner as she had related the facts to the officers 
sitting in court martial. 

When he had heard the brief outline of their ad- 
ventures, after starting on the long anticipated auto- 


214 Between the Lines in France 

mobile tour through Northern France, Monsieur 
Armand nodded his head, and tapped Lucille confid- 
ingly on the shoulder. 

“ Have no fears as to the result, little one,” he 
told her; “it is foolish, this grave charge against 
you and your brother. I will manage to say a few 
words to the colonel, and he must immediately dis- 
charge you from custody. Indeed, even if I had not 
chanced to come upon the scene I am confident they 
would have believed your story, and reprimanded 
the sergeant. But it is all right now.” 

A large and dusty car swung up in front of the 
Headquarters tent just then, from which several 
officers dressed in khaki descended. 

“ They are British ! ” whispered Lucille, as she 
saw them enter. 

“ And as sure as I live,” added Tom, “ I do be- 
lieve that one in the lead, who is shaking hands with 
General Joffre, must be General French, the head of 
the British forces in the field. He looks like a pic- 
ture I once saw of him, anyway.” 

“ It is as you say, my boy,” whispered Monsieur 
Armand ; “ they are here for a consultation, and we 
must leave the place at once. I will catch the eye 
of the colonel, whom I happen to know, and arrange 
it so that you will be free to go.” 

It struck Tom that their mysterious friend knew 
about all the French officers and seemed to possess 
their confidence to a considerable extent. Later on 


The Battle 


215 

Tom realized that M. Armand must have been a 
person of considerable importance, perhaps a trusted 
secret agent, or else a special bodyguard for the 
French commander-in-chief. 

A minute later M. Armand must have accom- 
plished what he had spoken of, for the officer who 
had been in charge of the proceedings came over to 
where the little group stood. 

The first thing he did was to shake hands heart- 
ily with M. Armand, who thereupon in a low tone 
began to assure him that he would stand sponsor 
for the prisoners, being entirely innocent. No doubt 
he took occasion to tell how he had met them in 
London, and later in Paris. 

At that the colonel hastened to offer his hand 
first to Lucille, to whom he bowed most politely, and 
then to Tom. 

“ We had already decided that the sergeant had 
overdone the matter, in his zeal to serve the cause, 
or to exalt his own prowess,” he told Lucille, in 
French; “ but we are of course pleased to have M. 
Armand vouch for you. Consider yourselves free 
to go as you will, and accept a thousand pardons 
for the inconvenience we have caused you. I trust 
you will find your worthy uncle safe when you re- 
turn to where you left him. M. Armand will take 
charge of you from now on.” 

That meant of course they had better leave the 
Headquarters tent, which would be needed for the 


216 Between the Lines in France 


serious consultation between the leaders of the Al- 
lies. Tom was only too glad of the opportunity to 
do this. He would have liked to give that malicious 
sergeant a piece of his mind, but two things pre- 
vented, he could not speak French — and the man 
had already cleared out. 

Once outside M. Armand led them to where they 
could sit under a tree and talk. The thunder of 
heavy guns was increasing, and making the earth 
tremble. 

“ Of course you’re wondering how I happen to 
be up here,” the gentleman said, with a twinkle in 
his black eyes. “ Well, first of all, I’m a French- 
man, and deeply interested in what is going on. 
Then again I have learned that the two men whose 
signatures are of vital importance to me are in the 
army, fighting on the firing line. So I can kill two 
birds with one stone, as you call it, by coming up 
here.” 

Perhaps this was the truth, but somehow Tom 
fancied that Monsieur Armand had other reasons 
for being at the front. It was really none of their 
business, however, and Tom tried not to let himself 
show any undue curiosity. 

“ And now, we must get back to uncle, Tom ! ” 
suggested Lucille. 

“ But did you not tell me you had left him at the 
hospital in the town that lies in the valley ? ” de- 
manded the gentleman. 


The Battle 


217 

“ Yes, he was there yesterday when we started 
out for that little stroll,” replied the girl ; “ and ever 
since that terrible firing started both of us have been 
worried about him. Could you find some way to get 
us back there, Monsieur? It would relieve our 
hearts very much.” 

He shook his head. 

“ I am afraid it could not be done during the day- 
time, my child,” he told them, with an air that car- 
ried conviction. 

“ He means, Lucille,” explained Tom, “ that all 
day long there’s likely to be a smashing of walls, 
and bursting of shells through sections of the town 
that happen to come within range of the German 
guns. It’s a French town, you must remember, and 
some of the gunners would take delight in knocking 
buildings over. The more damage they do here the 
worse France will feel the war.” 

“ That is what I meant,” the gentleman observed ; 
“ so it will be necessary for us to wait until night 
comes. Then the fire will slacken, if not die out 
entirely.” 

“ Will you arrange it for us so that we can go 
then, please?” begged Lucille. 

“ Not only that,” came the reply, “ but as I ex- 
pect to remain about here for some little time I my- 
self will accompany you, if the general gives us 
a guard to protect us against German snipers.” 

Both of them thanked him on hearing that. 


2 i 8 Between the Lines in France 


“ Let’s hope, then,” said Tom, “ that the Red 
Cross flag will keep the shells away from the hos- 
pital, and that uncle is unharmed. But just hear the 
way they’re getting warmed up ! How I’d like to be 
able to say I’d seen an actual battle, even from a dis- 
tance.” 

“ Then perhaps I can favor you, Tom,” offered 
M. Armand, pleasantly. “ It happens that I am 
carrying the field-glasses of General Joffre at this 
very moment, and close by I can see a vantage point 
from which a good view of the valley and the range 
of hills beyond may be gained. Come with me, both 
of you, for I imagine the conference inside there 
will last some time.” 

He led the way to a little elevation, and Tom saw 
that this would very likely be used by the Head- 
quarters officers to command a comprehensive view 
of what was going on for miles along the valley. 

The glasses turned out to be very fine ones and 
they looked long and earnestly along the crest of 
the hills. It was easy to mark the place where each 
big gun had been placed. When one of these was 
discharged Tom was even able to follow the flight 
of the great shell through the air until it landed and 
burst. 

“ I never expected to see this day, that’s sure,” 
he exclaimed, after witnessing this remarkable thing 
several times ; “ and I can see where some of our 
hits are made up there, too. One threw up a heap 


The Battle 


219 

of dirt and stones just then; and yes, sir, it must 
have smashed a gun too, from the looks, and the 
way they’re running about ! ” 

Of course M. Armand was eager to see if this 
were so; and after convincing himself that the 
French gunners had made a clean hit he passed the 
glasses over to Lucille, so that she too might enjoy 
seeing the result of clever shooting. 

A short time later they discovered a movement 
some miles away that indicated a valiant charge on 
the part of the French infantry to take a certain ele- 
vation that would be of considerable advantage to 
the side possessing it. 

The Germans had mounted guns in position, -and 
were doubtless in force, backed by machine guns that 
could mow long gaps in the lines of charging troops. 

Thrilled by the terrible picture, they stood and 
watched, falling back when the officers came hurry- 
ing from the tent to observe the success or failure 
of the offensive movement. 

On such a bright day there was no difficulty in 
seeing what transpired with the naked eye, espe- 
cially when one had youth and clear vision in his 
favor. 

The onrushing wearers of the red trousers began 
to scatter as they drew closer to the danger line. 
Tom saw that they were up to all the tricks that 
savage warfare teaches, such as dodging behind 
rocks and trees, and constantly working forward. 


220 Between the Lines in France 


“ They’re not like the Germans, who charge in 
solid formation,” he told Lucille. “ In this way the 
machine guns do only one-tenth of the execution 
they would if the ranks were solid.” 

“ I can see that you know what you are talking 
about, Tom,” observed M. Armand. “ The Alge- 
rian troops who are charging have learned their 
lesson. Mark my words well when I say I believe 
they will not stop until they have taken that posi- 
tion, cost what it may.” 

Fascinated they stood there and watched as the 
fight proceeded. Twice it appeared as though the 
hot fire poured down on them by the Germans was 
too much, for the assailants hesitated, and drew 
back ; but it was only to get their second wind, for 
soon they were again pushing resolutely on. 

“ Now they’ve reached the trenches, and are 
over!” exclaimed the excited Tom. “ Oh look at 
them climb, and fight hand-to-hand. If they give 
up now not a man will ever come back alive ! But 
they win, Lucille, they win ! See them going in, will 
you; and look, there’s our flag floating over the 
placer They’ve captured it at the point of the bay- 
onet ! ” 

Thrilled by the spectacle Tom forgot that he was 
considered a non-combatant, and added his young 
voice to swell the mad cheers that ran along the 
Allies’ line. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


WHEN GUN ANSWERED GUN 

The day crept on. 

There was never a time when that dreadful anvil 
chorus was not in full blast, now loud, and again 
softened somewhat by distance. Over the valley 
most of the -time there hung a pall of powder smoke, 
until occasionally a fresh breeze would arise to 
sweep it away. 

“ And just to think,’’ said Tom, who sat beside 
Lucille on the lookout mound, their kind friend hav- 
ing left them, on other matters, promising to return 
later — “just to think, this same thing is going on 
along a hundred miles, where the armies face each 
other. The Kaiser is getting his fill of fighting these 
days, with the Russians hammering away out there 
in East Prussia, and the Belgians holding them off 
in the Low Countries.” 

It was now the middle of the day. At times it 
seemed as though some sort of fierce fight might be 
going on for the trenches on the disputed point, 
since reenforcements were sent hurriedly up the 
slope, and the roar and cheers of hosts engaged in 
battle floated to the ears of the two who looked and 
listened. 


221 


222 Between the Lines in France 


“ But the Germans didn’t take it back, did they ? ” 
asked Lucille, when the smoke-shrouded point again 
became fairly quiet. 

“ I don’t think they did,” Tom told her; “ because 
there goes another lot of French zouaves up the 
hill; and you notice that they’re not fired on from 
above. They mean to hold that position if they 
can. It must be an important place for the side that 
keeps it. There, you can see artillery going up. 
Now a shell bursts among them.” 

“ Oh! see the poor horses jump; and, Tom, there 
are several of them down ! ” 

“ Yes, it’s hard on the horses ; but those guns have 
got to be taken up,” the boy grimly told her. 
“ Now see how the men swarm around. Every 
one who can get a grip on the wheels or any other 
part is pushing and pulling like mad. It’s mov- 
ing, too, and they deserve to get it up on that 
point! ” 

In this way the time passed. There was always 
something going on to rivet their attention. The 
novelty never seemed to wear away, for new devel- 
opments were constantly occurring along the battle 
line. 

The Germans would not come down from their 
elevated positions, and the French could only carry 
the trenches with frightful loss. So the artillery 
duel kept up all through the day, until it seemed as 
though the sound of great guns being discharged, 


When Gun Answered Gun 


223 

and shells exploding with muffled roar would deafen 
every one. 

That afternoon, as they sat by themselves, under 
the shade of a tree, Tom and Lucille found occa- 
sion to speak again of their mysterious friend, M. 
Armand. 

“ After all, that was one of the luckiest things we 
ever had happen to us, Tom,” the girl remarked, 
when her brother mentioned the singular way in 
which they had come to meet the gentleman. 

“ I guess you’re right, there,” he admitted, 
“ though it was a little rough on uncle. If Mon- 
sieur hadn’t happened to be Johnny-on-the-Spot at 
that time the motor ’bus might have run over him.” 

“ Yes, but think how nice it is for us to have such 
a splendid friend back of us here,” Lucille contin- 
ued. 

“ He says we would have convinced them that it 
was all a put-up job,” remarked Tom, “ even with- 
out any help from him. But I’m not so sure about 
it. And anyway, when he vouched for us that set- 
tled the whole business. I wonder who M. Armand 
is, and how he comes to be so thick with such famous 
men as General Joffre? Didn’t you see him intro- 
duced to the British leader, too; and the way Gen- 
eral French shook hands with him? I guess our 
friend isn’t just the ordinary citizen of France he 
claims to be.” 

“ Tom, you’ve got some sort of idea in your 


224 Between the Lines in France 

head; I can recognize the signs every time. Now 
own up, and tell me what you think ! ” Lucille urged, 
with that vein of feminine authority in her voice 
that Tom never tried to combat. 

“ Why, of course it’s only a hit-and-miss guess of 
mine,” he started to say. 

“ I understand that,” she told him, “ and I prom- 
ise not to condemn it without the proper considera- 
tion. Is he a French spy, as somebody thought 
when we talked it over, after first meeting him in 
London ? ” 

Tom shook his head, and smiled mysteriously. 

“ I hardly think so common a person as a spy 
would be on such terms of intimacy — is that the 
right word to use? — with famous generals. And 
I don’t believe the French commander would intro- 
duce a spy to General French, as I saw him do. 
No, our friend is something on a higher plane.” 

“ What can you mean, Tom? ” 

“ Why, I was thinking,” said the boy, earnestly, 
“ that perhaps M. Armand is a personal representa- 
tive of President Poincare. He seems to be treated 
with great consideration. We saw him in London ; 
perhaps he was over there to have a secret consulta- 
tion with King George and his Ministers, about the 
threatening war cloud.” 

“ But it hadn’t broken out then, had it?” de- 
manded Lucille. 


When Gun Answered Gun 225 

“ Oh ! shucks ! they’ve been expecting something 
to happen for quite a while, over in England. They 
must have known what Germany was aiming at, ex- 
pecting to bluff Russia into backing down. There’s 
a heap of secret history about the causes of this war 
that will come out sooner or later. Between you 
and me I think Monsieur Armand knows lots of it 
right now.” 

Something happened to draw their attention to 
another subject just then, and so they forgot to say 
anything more concerning their strange friend, or 
the real mission that had brought him to the fight- 
ing line. That story about his wanting to get signa- 
tures to some document might have a grain of truth 
in it; and again it was apt to be only a side issue 
that counted for very little. 

They saw the day declining with considerable sat- 
isfaction. 

“ Notice that the firing is already beginning to die 
down, Lucille,” Tom mentioned about an hour be- 
fore sunset ; “ which I take as a good sign.” 

“ They’re tired of wasting so much ammunition, I 
suppose, and doing so little real good with it ! ” the 
girl suggested. 

“ Well, you know that those big German guns are 
only good for a certain number of shots, and then 
they have to go back to the Krupp works at Essen 
to be rifled again. A hundred or so shots will knock 


226 Between the Lines in France 

lots of them out. So that’s one reason the gunners 
don’t like to crack away just to hear the racket. 
Besides, every shot costs a heap of money.” 

“ Here comes our good friend again, Tom.” 

“ I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about going 
with us to the town after night sets in,” remarked 
the boy, softly, so that Monsieur Armand might not 
hear what he was saying. 

The gentleman came up with a cheery smile on his 
dark face. As before he extended a hand to each 
of his young friends, and his grip was certainly a 
hearty one. 

“ General Jofifre has gone away with the British 
officers to look over some part of the line, and will 
not be back until late to-night,” he remarked. 
“ Supper — a genuine army camp supper, will be 
served presently, and I have ordered ours to be 
brought out here, for I invite myself to eat with you 
two.” 

“ That is nice of you, Monsieur Armand,” said 
Lucille, politely, while her eyes danced with pleasure. 
“ We were just saying we hoped you were not go- 
ing to disappoint us about taking us to the town to- 
night.” 

At that he looked grave. 

“ I am wondering,” he said, “ whether it is the 
right thing to expose you, a girl, to danger such as 
there must be in a disputed town lying between rival 
armies,” 


When Gun Answered Gun 227 

Lucille at once took the alarm. 

“ Oh ! but you wouldn’t think of leaving me be- 
hind ! ” she exclaimed. “ Indeed, I am accustomed 
to doing all sorts of things such as boys attempt. 
My brother will tell you I am a regular tomboy. I 
always loved to be in the snowball fights, to ride on 
a bobsled, skate, play hockey, and lots of other sports 
as well. Why, I can even throw a baseball from 
second base home; can’t I, Tom? And few girls 
could ever do that. So I want to go with you; I 
would be most unhappy if you didn’t let me.” 

Like the dutiful brother that he was, Tom gal- 
lantly came to the assistance of his “ pal,” and has- 
tened to convince Monsieur that Lucille was differ- 
ent from ordinary girls ; in fact as good and sturdy 
a chum as he ever knew. 

“ Oh ! well,” said the other, laughingly, at last, 
“ you overwhelm me with reasons why I should give 
in, and I suppose I’ll have to do as you wish. But 
somehow I hardly feel justified in taking the risk. 
Perhaps, though, we may not meet with any such 
hazards as I’m anticipating. I hope it may be that 
way, for the sake of the little ma’m’selle. War is 
no place for women or girls; it is bad enough for 
even strong men.” 

Tom knew that he meant they were apt to meet 
with grewsome sights upon entering the town, espe- 
cially if, as was feared, it had been shelled from time 
to time during the day and a half of bombardment. 


228 Between the Lines in France 


But Lucille seemed pleased with the promise she 
had influenced the other to make. 

“ You see, Tom and I have always been chums, 
and not like ordinary brother and sister,” she ex- 
plained to the amused and interested gentleman, 
who seemed to have taken a decided liking to the 
bright American girl ; “ and it would be too bad to 
separate us. I am generally able to stand anything 
he can, except at meal times, and I have to give in 
to him there.” 

“ You’re mentioning that,” Tom declared, “ be- 
cause you saw those soldiers heading this way with 
a lot of things that are steaming, and make my 
mouth water. Even French army cooks seem to 
know how to put things together to make them taste 
good.” 

The camp supper was delicious — even Lucille 
admitted that much. No doubt the fact of their 
being free of suspicion had considerable to do with 
the enjoyment she felt at partaking of the meal. 
As for Tom, he had never known a time, even when 
crossing the choppy seas of the English Channel, 
when he could not eat. 

By the time they had finished the sun was setting 
in the west. Luckily the firing had ceased save in 
one quarter where some object the Germans had in 
view was causing them to keep hammering away at 
stated intervals. 

M. Armand had obtained another pair of field 


When Gun Answered Gun 229 

glasses, and carefully surveyed the territory that 
they would have to cover in approaching the town. 
This latter chanced to be hidden from their eyrie 
by a projecting spur of the hills; but nevertheless 
it was easy to lay out a route that, if persisted in, 
would take them to their objective point. 

In doing this he often asked Tom’s opinion, nor 
was this simply a compliment on the part of the 
gentleman; for he quickly learned that the wide- 
awake scout had learned many things that were apt 
to prove of value under such conditions. 

“ I suppose that the sooner we start the better,” 
suggested M. Armand ; and standing up he made a 
motion with his arm. 

Some one must have been keeping a watchful eye 
on him for just this signal; because almost imme- 
diately Tom saw a dozen well-armed soldiers ad- 
vancing in formation, all of whom had the earmarks 
of experienced sharpshooters. 

This detachment was to serve as their guard, for 
there must be more or less danger that in venturing 
into the disputed town they might suddenly run 
upon some enemies who were there for another pur- 
pose than merely the rescue of an endangered inmate 
of the hospital. 

They started forth, and as nothing arose to bar 
their progress inside of a little more than an hour 
Tom whispered to Lucille that they were close to 
the border of the town. A chill came upon their 


230 Between the Lines in France 

spirits, for how different everything seemed! No 
matter how they listened they could hear none of 
the familiar sounds. Merry laughter, the chatter- 
ing of women, voices of children, barking of dogs 
— all were of the past, and now only a brooding 
silence that boded much of evil hung over the place. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


AMIDST CRUMBLING WALLS 

“Tom, what does it all mean?” whispered Lu- 
cille, as they stopped just on the edge of the town, 
while M. Armand conferred with the one in charge 
of their guards. 

“ I’m afraid the town’s been bombarded! ” he re- 
plied, slowly, as though the idea revolted him. 

“ And have the poor people been killed ? ” she con- 
tinued, her voice quivering with horror. 

“ Oh ! that doesn’t have to follow,” Tom reas- 
sured her ; “ they may have been warned to leave 
their homes by the French, when the shells began to 
burst in the streets, and knock the walls of the 
houses down. Look at that one, and think what a 
hundred like it would do.” 

He pointed to a building close by, which, seen in 
the weird moonlight, looked almost like a crumbling 
ruin. Yet Lucille had admired the quaint archi- 
tectural design of that very house only a week be- 
fore. 

Their guide must have concluded his arrange- 
ments with the sergeant in charge of the detachment 
of French soldiers, for he motioned the others to 
follow. So they entered the town. 

231 


232 Between the Lines in France 

How ghostly the whole thing seemed, with the 
white moonlight sifting over the apparently deserted 
buildings. Tom quickly discovered, however, that 
people were yet to be found amid the ruins. 

“ There goes a man — several people in fact — 
and not soldiers either,” he told Lucille. 

“ Yes, and over on the right you can se'e others,” 
she added. “ Oh ! they seem like ghosts prowling 
about, or else wolves trying to find something to eat. 
Where have they come from, Tom? ” 

“ I’ve got an idea they must be some of those 
who refused to leave their homes when the shells 
began to burst in the streets. All day they hide in 
the cellars, to creep out at night, after the firing has 
stopped.” 

“ How dreadful a life that must be ! ” she sighed. 

“ Some houses have escaped without a scratch, 
so far as I can see,” pursued Tom, bound to make 
the most of his opportunities for seeing a town that 
had suffered from modem gun-fire, “ and others are 
nearly tumbling down.” 

“ Oh ! look at that church spire, Tom ! ” exclaimed 
the girl, pulling at his sleeve, as with her other hand 
she pointed upward. 

They were close enough to the sacred edifice 
to see clearly the whole of the steeple outlined 
against the heavens. Perhaps it had been taken as 
a range-finder by some German gunner up on the 
heights miles away. If so his figuring must have 


Amidst Crumbling Walls 233 

been accurate, for the shell had torn out one side of 
the support of the stately spire. 

“ What a terrible gap that is,” observed Tom. 

“ It looks as though it would fall over any min- 
ute,” Lucille added. “ You don’t think that might 
happen while we’re underneath, do you, Tom? ” 

He laughed at her fears. A fleecy white cloud 
drifting past the apex of the cross doubtless gave 
Lucille the impression that the imperiled spire was 
even then in motion. 

“ Oh ! I guess it’ll stand for some time yet,” Tom 
told her. “ Perhaps until a big wind comes along, 
and then — good-by.” 

As they progressed from one street to another 
they saw more shifting figures that had crept from 
their hiding places. These frightened people al- 
ways shrank back at the approach of the patrol. 
When, however, they recognized the beloved red 
trousers of the French soldiers their confidence 
seemed to return. 

Women even stopped M. Armand, whom they ap- 
peared to recognize as some sort of leader, and in 
trembling voices apparently besought him to advise 
them as to what they should do, and whether there 
was any chance of the terrible Germans being driven 
away from the hills. 

At least that was what Tom fancied they must be 
saying, judging from their actions, and the way they 
kept wringing their hands. 


234 Between the Lines in France 

The boy had never before felt his heart throb so 
with pity as just then. He heard M. Armand speak 
kindly yet firmly to those who besought his advice ; 
and Tom, listening still, was of the opinion that he 
told them they had better leave the town before an- 
other day ushered in a still more deadly bombard- 
ment. 

The women turned away with downcast eyes. 
Their last hope had been shattered; yet many of 
them would doubtless still contrive to cling to their 
homes, in spite of the increasing perils that sur- 
rounded them. 

“ Some places seem to have been more lucky than 
others, it strikes me,” Tom told his sister, as they 
began to draw near the heart of the town. 

“ Yes, for we haven’t seen more than one 
damaged house out of the last dozen,” she continued, 
hopefully. “ Do you think that can mean they tried 
to keep from dropping their awful shells near the 
hospital ? ” 

“ It may have been that,” Tom replied uneasily, 
“ and then again perhaps it’s just a freak. That’s 
the way things go ; one part gets more than its share, 
while others escape. There, you see, we’ve struck 
another place where several shells must have burst, 
for the walls of the houses are wrecked terribly.” 

“ Oh ! look, they are carrying some one on a lit- 
ter ! ” whispered Lucille. 

“ That must be the Red Cross corps at work,” 


Amidst Crumbling Walls 235 

said Tom, in a hushed tone, as he watched the two 
silent figures pass, and heard the groaning of the 
unfortunate whom they were taking with them. 

“ But, Tom, they are going the other way! ” com- 
plained Lucille. 

Tom had himself already noted that the men who 
bore the stretcher did not seem to be heading toward 
the place where they knew the hospital stood. He 
felt that in itself this was a bad omen ; but there was 
no need of depressing the spirits of Lucille so soon 
by admitting his fears. 

“ Oh ! well, there has been a heap of warm work 
since we were here, you know, sis, and the accommo- 
dations up there were limited after all. It might be 
that before now every cot has been occupied, and so 
they have to take any new cases back of the French 
lines to some field hospital.” 

“ Do you think so, Tom? ” she asked hesitatingly, 
as though she doubted the accuracy of this sug- 
gestion. “ They must have taken that poor soul out 
of some house where a falling wall or flying bullet 
caught her. But I’m glad we don’t see any terrible 
sights on the streets. I was afraid of that.” 

Tom did not tell her what he had seen, for he was 
too discreet to add to her discomfort. Besides, he 
really feared that they were going to get more 
or less of a shock presently, when they had arrived 
in the neighborhood of the spot at which the hos- 
pital was located. 


236 Between the Lines in France 

Unfortunately this building had been erected with- 
out the least thought of a time coming when hostile 
guns might be turned on the French town. It was 
on a slight elevation, and from its piazza a fine view 
could be obtained of the rest of the town. 

In times of peace this was very nice, and its ele- 
vation afforded the best of air to the inmates. But 
when conditions changed, and war-clouds gathered, 
its position could hardly have been worse. 

Conspicuous objects are sure at such times to 
draw gun-fire from the distant enemy. Even the 
flag with the Red Cross marked upon a white back- 
ground may either be unnoticed or else purposely 
ignored. 

Tom had heard from M. Armand that the hos- 
pital had suffered, though just how seriously he 
could not say. As it would not do any possible 
good, and be a source of considerable sorrow to 
Lucille, Tom had intentionally failed to pass this 
information along. But it was with considerable 
anxiety that he now found himself drawing near 
the spot. 

He was hugging the hope to his heart that even 
though the hospital had been an object of attack, 
and part of it wrecked by shells, still, some of the 
patients might have survived. There were possibly 
cellars in which they could cower during the day, 
like other wretched people of the town, and where 
it was reasonably safe to remain. 


Amidst Crumbling Walls 237 

“ Our poor friend the innkeeper didn’t escape 
damage, it seems,” Tom remarked, as they ap- 
proached the familiar corner where stood the quaint 
house whose friendly roof had sheltered them all 
the trying days and nights while Uncle Alvin was 
in the hospital. 

“ Tom, see how the wall is torn open just at the 
place where we had our little rooms ! ” Lucille ex- 
claimed in dismay. “ What if we had been sleep- 
ing when that happened? Yes, just as you said a 
while ago, we have lots to be thankful for; if only 
we can find poor dear uncle safe I’m not going to 
complain again.” 

“ What we’ve suffered isn’t in the same class 
with what these people are going through with,” 
Tom asserted sturdily. “ Some of them have al- 
ready lost their homes, where they were born, and 
have lived all their days; and lots of others will 
before the end comes. Then for all we know some 
of those awful shells may have done worse than 
smash walls and church steeples. Yes, we oughtn’t 
to whimper, no matter what happens.” 

“ I can see one end of the hospital now, Tom ! ” 
declared Lucille. 

“ Yes, that’s so.” 

“ It looks as if the building still stood,” she con- 
tinued, hopefully. 

“ Why, even at the worst it wouldn’t have been 
blown into ruins,” Tom returned. “ We might 


238 Between the Lines in France 

find that there were several holes through the walls ; 
and perhaps that the nurses had decided to remove 
the patients to a safer place. Uncle was able to 
walk, you know, and could have gone fairly well.” 

Something about his tone, his manner, seemed 
to arouse her suspicions, for Lucille immediately 
turned on him to ask : 

“ Tom, you know something that you’ve been 
keeping from me. You’re trying to break it gradu- 
ally. Did you hear that the hospital had been 
struck? Tell me, for we’ll know the worst in a 
minute or two.” 

“Why, they say it did not escape entirely,” ad- 
mitted Tom, forced to confess at last. 

“You didn’t hear anything definite, then; I 
mean anything about uncle?” the girl continued, 
desperately. 

“ Not a single thing, Lucille, I give you my word 
on it. Even if the building was badly wrecked that 
wouldn’t mean he was hurt. We’ll find that Uncle 
Alvin is able to take care of himself.” 

Lucille tried to draw in fresh courage as they 
continued to advance toward the slight elevation on 
which the building had stood. 

More and more clearly they began to see the 
walls. When Lucille detected a spot where a 
yawning aperture could be seen, her heart gave a 
violent throb. 

“ Oh ! I hope they were all out before that shell 


Amidst Crumbling Walls 239 

passed through,” she breathed; for only too well 
did she know where it must have carried destruction 
before making that breach, to finally burst in the 
street, where that pile of dirt had been thrown up. 
(See Note 10.) 

Then they came in sight of the entire building, 
but to the dismay of Lucille it was apparently de- 
serted, with no hurrying nurses, no doctors passing 
back and forth, no gleaming lights — only an edifice 
shorn of its glory, and wrecked. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE ABANDONED HOSPITAL 

There could be no doubt that the hospital was 
deserted. The work of waiting on the many pa- 
tients the staff would have to take care of, after the 
desperate fighting they had witnessed from the 
headquarters of the Allies, could not be carried on 
in darkness and gloom. 

“ It looks as though they must have pulled out 
when they found it was getting too hot here, ,, Tom 
hastened to say, hoping to soften the blow. “ You 
see, it happens, worse luck, that this building was 
in the direct line of fire from the German batteries 
up on the hills, and so of course it suffered.” 

Their kind conductor now turned to them. He 
knew they must be greatly disappointed at finding 
things so desolate. 

“We must look inside, to make sure no one is 
hiding in some room, or it may be in the cellars,” 
he told them. “ I will leave a part of our guard 
with you here, while I perform that duty. Depend 
upon it, your fears must be greater than the truth 
will appear. Wait for us here, my young friends.” 

Tom would have liked to accompany him, but he 
did not wish to leave Lucille alone with the soldiers. 

240 / 


The Abandoned Hospital 241 

There was no telling when some prowling Germans 
might try to enter the town, either on a scouting 
mission, or in search of loot. 

They stood talking in low tones and waiting 
anxiously. Before entering the hospital one of the 
soldiers had lighted a lantern, since they would need 
some means of illumination when stumbling about 
amidst the wreckage. 

Tom and his sister followed the passage of that 
flickering light from place to place. Knowing the 
location of each room as they did, they could easily 
keep track of the progress of the searching party. 

The minutes passed slowly, and no doubt seemed 
doubly long to the two anxious hearts waiting to 
learn the outcome. 

“ They seem to have come up from below, Tom,” 
breathed Lucille, faintly, as the moving lantern 
could again be seen. 

“ Yes, that’s so,” he replied. 

“ I can see them starting out of the door now,” 
she continued. “ There, they move along in front 
of the building toward where that largest gap lies. 
But I don’t seem to make out that they’re carrying 
any one, Tom? ” 

“ Of course not,” Tom replied. “ If there were 
any persons hurt here, the Red Cross nurses would 
see that they were taken away long before now, 
shells or no shells. They never hold back because 
it’s dangerous.” 


242 Between the Lines in France 

“ But — he didn’t find uncle at all, you see ! ” she 
fretted. 

“ Which I take to mean that uncle is too wise 
to be caught napping. He got away in time, per- 
haps when the first crash told that the Germans 
were forgetting about the flag on top of the hos- 
pital.” 

“ Then you really hope he may be safe, do you? ” 
Lucille demanded, seizing him by the sleeve. 

“ I certainly do. But here comes M. Armand. 
Let’s hear what he has to say about it.” 

A minute later they were joined by the other por- 
tion of the detachment. The lantern had been 
extinguished as soon as they issued forth from the 
deserted hospital building. 

“ He is certainly not there, children,” M. Armand 
told them as he came up. “ We searched through 
the entire building, even invading the cellars; but 
found not a single living human being. There is 
a poor half-starved hunting dog tied there, that may 
have belonged to some one, that is all.” 

“ Oh ! that must be Doctor Jacques’s dog, Mina,” 
cried Lucille. “ In his haste to get away, and re- 
move his patients he has forgotten all about the 
poor thing.” 

Tom was uneasy. He wondered whether the 
searching party could have made any unpleasant 
discovery when they were in the building. M. Ar- 
mand had declared that no “ living human being ” 


The Abandoned Hospital 243 

remained, but could that imply there were those who 
had died from the effect of some exploding shell? 

He must know the worst, and so he asked : 

“ Then you feel sure, do you, sir, that our uncle 
must have managed to leave his quarters ? ” 

M. Armand shrugged his shoulders as only 
Frenchmen know how, to express much more than 
mere words can convey. 

“ It would seem so, since living or dead he is 
certainly not in there now,” he told them, greatly 
to Tom’s relief, for now he was sure things could 
not be so bad as he had feared. 

“ Oh ! thank you for saying that ! ” murmured 
Lucille, and Tom imagined she must have been 
thinking along the same lines as himself. 

“ See, I am frank with you, children,” continued 
the other, tenderly, as if he realized what their 
fears may have been ; “ yes, it is so, there is one 
poor fellow - inside who met his fate as became a 
true son of France, and in the discharge of his 
duty ; but he was a hospital attendant ; not your old 
uncle. That building may yet be his sepulcher if 
the invaders on the heights keep turning their guns 
on it much longer.” 

They had started to leave the place, and Tom was 
just about to ask their kind guardian how they 
might best learn whether the late inmates of the 
hospital had been taken to the rear of the French 
lines, when something unexpected occurred. 


244 Between the Lines in France 

Around a corner just beyond they heard a 
scuffling sound. Then dim figures were seen ad- 
vancing, dodging this way and that. The moon- 
light gleamed on bright steel; and they heard a 
heavy voice giving what seemed to be an order. 

“ It is the Germans ! ” Monsieur Armand ex- 
claimed. 

At the same instant both his hands seemed to go 
out, and Tom as well as Lucille found themselves 
dragged back of a pile of stones and bricks, torn 
from the wall of the house by a plunging shell. 

The French guard had also heard that command 
in German. They knew that it spelled danger for 
them, and every man instantly dodged for such 
shelter as offered; some even throwing themselves 
flat upon their faces on the street. 

Almost instantly a gun was fired. It came from 
the skulking figures beyond, and Tom heard the 
spiteful hiss of the leaden messenger as it passed 
close to his head. He drew his sister closer, as 
though willing to shield her with his own body, if 
necessary, from the threatening peril. 

Then other guns were discharged, close beside 
them. The men with the baggy' red trousers 
whom M. Armand had picked out to accompany 
the exploring party into the town, were getting 
busy. 

Tom afterwards learned that these men had seen 
much service among the sand dunes of the Algerian 



Tom found himself covered by several rifles 
gripped in the hands of men who wore baggy 
red trousers — French soldiers of the line. 






































f 


































































































The Abandoned Hospital 245 

deserts, and were experienced sharpshooters. They 
knew all about the tricks of savage warfare, and 
would prove more than a match for ordinary foes. 

It happened that one of the French soldiers was 
struck in the arm at the first exchange of shots. 
He was close beside Tom, and the boy, turning his 
head, saw him making desperate efforts to raise his 
gun, but without the power to control the muscles 
of his arm. 

Hardly knowing what he was doing, but spurred 
on by the feeling of indignation that overpowered 
him, Tom crawled out and took the gun from the 
hands of the wounded soldier. 

Back again to the shelter of the pile of wreckage 
he slipped. It all had taken but a few seconds. 

Here and there could be seen splashes of vivid 
flame. These located the positions of the Germans 
who had entered the town, either on a reconnais- 
sance, or for purposes of looting. 

Tom, still burning with his sudden zeal, actually 
discharged his gun in the direction of the next flash 
he saw. Neutral? Yes, but when attacked he cer- 
tainly must maintain the right to defend himself 
and Lucille. 

The rapid exchange of shots continued for a brief 
period. Then unable to repress their ardor any 
longer the French soldiers from Algeria gave vent 
to a series of shrill yells, such as possibly they had 
learned from some of the savage mountain tribes- 


246 Between the Lines in France 

men whom they were accustomed to fighting in 
Northern Africa. 

“ They are charging them! ” cried Tom, starting 
to scramble up ; but on one side M. Armand, and on 
the other Lucille, pulled him back again. 

“ That is their affair, not yours, children!” he 
heard Monsieur say, chidingly, as the patter of 
swiftly moving feet told that the French soldiers 
were in full pursuit of the invaders. “ But I must 
declare that this boy is a credit to the Maillards.” 

The sergeant was a discreet man, and not likely 
to allow his command to overdo matters, so as to 
run into any ambuscade. After chasing the Ger- 
mans out of town and accomplishing what damage 
was possible, he would return once more to the spot 
where the others had been left. 

Meanwhile M. Armand bent over the wounded 
man, who was now sitting up, calmly trying to knot 
a handkerchief around his damaged arm. When 
Tom saw what was needed he quickly sprang to 
assist, for as has been shown before, the boy knew 
many of the leading principles of first aid to the 
injured. 

By the time they heard returning footsteps, and 
the command came up the street, carrying several 
guns, and a spiked helmet as spoils of war, the sol- 
dier had been treated so that the bleeding of his 
wound was fairly stopped. 


The Abandoned Hospital 247 

At least the Germans had discovered that it was 
not safe for them to come down by night to the 
bombarded town in search of wine or other things. 
They were liable to meet with unpleasant surprises 
in attempting this sort of thing, and be sent back 
up the slopes faster than they had descended. 

“ And now, what can we do to try and find 
uncle ? ” asked Lucille, when they were all together 
again. 

“ If you feel equal to a long tramp,” explained 
M. Armand, “ we can start out and visit one or two 
of the field hospitals that are to be found in the 
rear of our trenches. As a rule these are beyond 
the range of the enemy’s guns. It would be to such 
a place, I should think, he would be apt to go.” 

“ I wish we could find some one to give us a little 
information,” remarked Tom. 

“ Perhaps we might,” the girl suggested, hope- 
fully. “ Just a little bit ago I’m almost sure I 
heard some one cough over there at the inn. And, 
Tom, you remember how Monsieur Labaudy, the 
landlord, used to have such a funny way of doing 
that? After all it might be he hasn’t had the heart 
to desert his place, or else he comes back at night 
to guard it from pillagers.” 

“ We must find out about it,” said Tom, “ because 
he would be apt to know what became of Uncle Al- 
vin. Don’t you say the same thing, sir ? This inn- 


248 Between the Lines in Fra ice 

keeper was like a town newspaper ; he knew 
everything that was going on. Shall we try to find 
him? ” 

“ It could do no harm, and might give us a clue 
that would save more or less exertion,” their guard- 
ian readily replied. 

The inn had been struck, but was far from being 
a wreck, as they saw when they drew close to its 
solid walls. A frame building would have gone 
down like a pack of cards, under such a terrible im- 
pact ; but they build sturdily in Old World countries, 
and the walls of even an humble cottage can stand 
a deal of hammering. 

Hardly had they reached the closed door, upon 
which M. Armand beat with his fist, calling the 
name of Monsieur Labaudy at the same time, than 
a window was cautiously pushed open in the upper 
story, and a head projecting announced that Tom’s 
guess had hit the mark, for the innkeeper was even 
then under his own roof. 

There ensued an exchange of words, and upon 
learning that they were not hostile Germans who 
had summoned him, the landlord came down and 
out. 

He seemed considerably surprised, and pleased as 
well, to discover the two young Americans who had 
been his guests through all the troublous times. 

“ We are looking for our uncle, who, as you 
know, was a patient over there in the hospital,” 


Ihe Abandoned Hospital 249 

Lucille said. “ He is not there now, and every one 
seems to have gone away, even Doctor' Jacques. 
Can you tell us anything about our uncle ? Did you 
see them when they departed? Oh! please hurry 
and tell us.” 

The innkeeper must have been able to understand 
her French, for he nodded his head immediately. 

“ Yes, it is as you say, ma’m’selle,” he hastened 
to tell her. “ I was here last night when they de- 
parted. Men came with stretchers, and carried 
away all who were wounded; and many of them 
were brave soldiers of France who had fallen in 
the fighting close by. They said they were taking 
them to safer quarters. The shells of the barbari- 
ans up there did not spare the Red Cross flag any 
more than they did my poor inn.” 

“ But our uncle was able to walk, you remember,” 
Lucille continued. “ We were to have gone away 
this very day, as he was feeling ever so much better. 
’Tell us, did you see him leave? Surely you remem- 
ber him, the man with the happy look on his face, 
as you called him, the day I took you over to talk 
with him ? ” 

“ I saw him go, I assure you, ma’m’selle,” the 
innkeeper admitted, at which assertion both Tom 
and his sister breathed freer; for even the boy could 
tell that the answer had been favorable. 

“ But not alone, surely ; he must have gone in 
some one’s company?” continued Lucille. 


250 Between the Lines in France 

“ It was the queer little Englishman and his wife 
who stopped here at my inn; yes, and there was 
Doctor Jacques as well. They went away, all of 
them, last night ; and the stout madame she did have 
her arm about your uncle to assist him. I think 
she was better able than any of the rest. Depend 
on it, ma’m’selle, your relative he is safe some- 
where at this moment.” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


ON THE TRACK OF UNCLE ALVIN 

“Things are looking brighter all the while,” 
declared Tom, after Lucille had told him what the 
innkeeper had said. 

“ But that doesn’t mean we’ve found him yet, 
Tom, remember,” she warned him. “ He is in a 
poor state of health, and exposure, even in the sum- 
mer time, might throw him back to where he was a 
while ago. We must still try to find him.” 

“ Yes, I’m with you there,” the boy told her, 
earnestly ; “ but after feeling as blue as we did it’s 
a big relief to know he left here, able to walk by 
himself, and wasn’t carried out on a stretcher.” 

“If you shouldn’t feel like walking so far,” re- 
marked M. Armand, kindly, “ there might be 
another way to reach the same end. By returning 
to headquarters we could learn whether they are 
connected with the different field hospitals by tele- 
phone. Then I would find out if your uncle could 
be located.” 

“ But no one would know him, perhaps ? ” ob- 
jected Lucille. 

“ If he stayed with Doctor Jacques we would have 
251 


252 Between the Lines in France 

something to go by,” continued M. Armand*. “ And 
perhaps I could even put you in touch with the doc- 
tor himself, who would give you all necessary 
information at first hand.” 

“ Are you sure about the connections, monsieur? ” 
Tom cautiously asked. 

“ I regret to say I am not,” came the frank reply; 
“ although I believe it is always customary to lay 
wires from headquarters to all such places the first 
thing, since the commanding general would want to 
know how affairs were going with some valued of- 
ficer who had been stricken in the field and carried, 
off.” 

“ I’ve got another plan to propose,” said Tom, 
suddenly; “perhaps you’ll say it’s boyish and im- 
possible, monsieur; but then again it wouldn’t be 
any harm that I can see to try it out.” 

“ I shall be pleased to hear what it is,” said the 
gentleman, readily; for as has been said before he 
really thought considerable of Tom. 

“ It’s about the dog,” began the boy. 

“ Do you mean Mina ? ” asked Lucille, instantly. 

“ The hunting dog belongs to Doctor Jacques, 
and he told me he believed she had the greatest 
scent he ever met. Why, he boasted that she could 
follow a trail hours and hours after the game had 
passed.” 

M. Armand showed interest at once. It might be 
that he himself was fond of shooting over a dog 


On the Track of Uncle Alvin 253 

in the stubble, and could therefore appreciate what 
this quality on the part of Mina might mean. 

“ It is your idea, then,” he said, a little dubiously, 
“ to take this dog, and see if she can follow the 
track of her master, made last night? ” 

“ Yes,” the boy replied, “ and while I know that 
it seems next to impossible, as I said before it 
wouldn’t do any harm to make the try. If we 
found that the dog acted as though she had lost the 
scent for good, why we could just turn her loose, 
and go on about our business, making for the near- 
est field hospital ourselves.” 

“ Somehow the idea appeals to me,” their pro- 
tector told Tom. “ I am something of a sportsman 
myself, but I find it hard to believe any dog living 
can perform such a task. I should like to have it 
proven. Only then will I admit that the age of 
miracles has returned.” 

He turned and said something to the sergeant in 
charge of the squad, who immediately took one of 
his men, and lantern in hand hurried back toward 
the deserted hospital on the rise. 

“ They have gone to fetch the dog! ” said Tom, 
promptly. 

“ Poor Mina ! ” murmured the girl, “ she ought 
to have something to eat before starting out on 
what may be a long trip.” 

“ Even that I have provided for, little ma’m’- 
selle,” the other informed her. “ When Monsieur 


254 Between the Lines in France 

Labaudy hurried back into his inn just now it was 
to secure some meat such as a hungry dog might 
swallow.” 

“ You forget nothing, monsieur,” Lucille told 
him. “ And we have told ourselves how fortunate 
it was for us that you happened to pick up our uncle 
that day in London, when he came near swooning 
under the wheels of the motor ’bus. You have been 
a good friend to us; and we will never forget you, 
never ! ” 

“ I am amply rewarded by hearing you say that, 
believe me, children; but here they are coming 
back,” and while M. Armand quickly changed the 
subject in this way, it certainly must have done his 
heart good to know how these two appreciated his 
efforts to serve them. 

“ They have got the dog, all right!” declared 
Tom. 

“ And the poor thing is wild to get somewhere,” 
continued Lucille. “ For twenty-four hours and 
more she’s been tied in that cellar, with all that 
terrible noise going on. You couldn’t blame any 
dog for acting so, could you, Tom? ” 

She spoke the dog’s name as the sergeant and his 
companion joined them. As though recognizing a 
friend, the animal fawned on her, licking her hand, 
and jumping up to show delight. 

A minute later the innkeeper made his appear- 
ance again, bearing some scraps of meat, such as 


On the Track of Uncle Alvin 255 

would prove a feast to a hungry dog. The animal 
was well acquainted with the landlord, and eagerly 
snapped up each portion of food as it was tossed 
toward her open mouth. 

When the operation of feeding had been com- 
pleted, while Mina might not be wholly satisfied, 
still she appeared far less excited, and even began 
putting her nose close to the ground, as though 
hunting for a scent. 

“ See, she knows what we want her to do! ” ex- 
claimed Lucille, joyously. 

“ It’s her nature to be always smelling for traces 
of game, or some one she wants to find,” explained 
Tom. “ To such a dog every person has an en- 
tirely different scent.” 

“ The sergeant will hold the leash,” remarked 
Monsieur Armand, “ but through me you shall tell 
us how to proceed, Tom. You see, I assume that 
you know more about such things perhaps than any 
of us. And, besides, it was your plan.” 

“ Oh ! anybody could do it, for that matter,” 
Tom hastened to say; though of course he could 
not but feel flattered by what the other had de- 
clared. 

After talking briefly with the stalwart sergeant, 
M. Armand again addressed Tom. 

“ Tell us what you want done, first of all, please, 
young m’sieu,” he said. “ The dog you see is al- 
ready straining at the leash, and seems to be eager 


256 Between the Lines in France 

to hunt around. It is likely that she hopes to learn 
where her master has gone, that she may follow 
after him.” 

“ Tell him to let her have her head, and circle 
around as she pleases,” Tom requested; “ especially 
in front of the hospital, where Doctor Jacques and 
the rest of the party would be apt to walk when 
leaving.” 

“ I can understand what you hope to gain by 
such a move,” the other replied; and Tom believed 
he heard him chuckling softly to himself as though 
pleased with something. 

All of them watched eagerly to see what would 
come of this little maneuver. The dog was whisk- 
ing this way and that, keeping her sensitive nose 
close to the earth. Tom hoped that in this case 
the scent would lie longer than customary, though 
not allowing his hopes too free a rein. 

“ Good Mina ! Find him — find Doctor 
Jacques!” urged Lucille, as she followed close be- 
hind the dog. 

“ I think she recognizes the sound of his name,” 
Tom declared, “ for when you said it I declare if 
that tail didn’t wag faster than ever. Yes, and she 
gave a little whine. If a dog can do such a thing 
under such conditions, Mina is going to satisfy us. 
Watch her now ! ” 

The animal seemed to be growing more and more 
excited. Three times did she drag the willing ser- 


On the Track of Uncle Alvin 257 

geant back to a certain place, on each occasion 
striking out on a different direction, only to give 
that effort up and try again. 

It was very exciting, watching these movements 
of the intelligent animal, especially so to M. Ar- 
mand, who had confessed to being something of 
a sportsman himself, and accustomed to hunting 
with a dog. 

Tom, who knew the signs full well, encouraged 
his sister. 

“ Just give the old girl a little more chance, and 
I think shell show what she can do. Right now 
she believes she’s getting close up on the track of 
the Doc, or I miss my guess. See how she strikes 
out for the fourth time. There, what did I tell 
you, sis ? ” 

The dog lifted her head, and gave a triumphant 
bay, after which she tugged violently at the leash, 
as though wild to be off. 

“ She has found the scent, most wonderful to 
say ! ” declared Monsieur Armand in amazement. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE DARING SKY PILOTS 

“ Good Mina ! Good doggie ! ” Lucille could not 
help saying, happily, when it began to look as 
though there might be some hope of their being 
able to trace the little party that had set out from 
the imperiled hospital. 

The dog continued to strain at the leash. At 
first the sergeant held her firmly in, but when M. 
Armand spoke to him in a voice of authority he 
began to give the hound her head. 

There could be no question that Mina was fol- 
lowing some sort of trail. A human tracker would 
have had to depend wholly on his eyes in order to 
discover certain marks. The dog on the other 
hand possessed a faculty of an altogether different 
order. 

Tom would never have believed such a thing pos- 
sible, considering all the hours that had elapsed 
since the fugitives had fled. Even now he told 
himself their joy might be short-lived, and that 
Mina was possibly following the trail of some other 
person. 

“ Which way are we heading, Tom?” asked his 
sister, a little later. 


258 


The Daring Sky Pilots 259 

“ I don’t know for sure,” he replied, “ but it 
seems to me we’re pushing along the front of the 
French trenches. There’s a railroad around here 
somewhere, because if you listen you can hear the 
noise of a train coming this way.” 

“ A train ! ” exclaimed Lucille, eagerly, “ oh ! 
what a fine thing it would be if we could only get 
aboard, and start for Paris, or Havre, or some- 
where away from this terrible region.” 

“ I’d like it about as much as you would, but I’m 
afraid we haven’t a ghost of a show. The train is 
heading this way, and chances are it’s made up of 
freight cars, or vans, as they call them here, every 
one chock-full of soldiers, or ammunition for the 
big guns. I think I heard the Allies here were 
short of powder, and that train may be fetch- 
ing it.” 

“ But it’s got to go back again, somehow or other, 
Tom, hasn’t it?” the girl continued, with great 
anxiety. 

“ I should think so, or else they’d run short of 
vans down south,” Tom replied. 

“ Then why couldn’t we get authority from some 
one to go aboard when it does go? After we’ve 
found uncle I don’t want to stay another minute 
around here,” and Tom could feel the little hand 
he held quiver with emotion. 

“ I don’t blame you for feeling that way, Lu- 
cille,” he told her, “ and while I’ve always had an 


260 Between the Lines in France 

idea I’d like to watch a battle, I’m telling you right 
now I’ve had enough.” 

“ But how about the empty train going back 
south, Tom?” 

“ It isn’t likely to be empty, I’m afraid. They’ll 
take advantage of the opportunity to send all the 
wounded that can bear the trip down towards 
Boulogne. But your idea is worth trying out. 
Before we part from our good friend here, I’ll ask 
him to do what he can for us.” 

“You mean M. Armand?” she whispered, look- 
ing at the figure of their mysterious guardian. 

“ Yes. He is the best friend anybody ever ran 
across,” said Tom, in his boyish way. “ Though 
I’d give a heap to know just who and what he is. 
But then, that’s none of our business, after all, and 
the less said about it the better.” 

“Watch Mina, Tom; I’m afraid she’s lost the! 
track ! ” remarked Lucille, dismally. 

Tom, from his superior knowledge of the ways 
of dogs when on the scent, immediately reassured 
her. 

“ Oh ! you must expect some little slip from time 
to time, especially when the scent is as old as this. 
I’m only wondering how it happens she can find 
it at all; and I reckon there must be something 
mighty unusual about the air around here, with all 
this gun-fire going on to keep the scent low. 


The Daring Sky Pilots 261 

There, what did I tell you; it looks as though she 
felt sure again, eh ? ” 

“ She's going on, and acts as she did before, for 
a fact," admitted Lucille, in a relieved tone. 

It was a strange experience, and no doubt one that 
would often recur to the memory of Tom Maillard 
under far different conditions, with perhaps a calm 
American starlight night enveloping him 

The moon was high in the heavens, and afforded 
them a species of illumination, though of course 
deceptive. They could hear certain sounds occa- 
sionally that told them they were not a great way 
from some section of the Allies' trenches. Now it 
seemed as though they were outside, and again 
Tom imagined they must have entered a breach 
in the line, for surely moving figures were to be 
seen between their position and the valley, beyond 
which rose the hills occupied by the German army. 

Several times they had been challenged by alert 
sentries, but a whispered word always gave them 
freedom to proceed as before. 

“ Do you really believe we’ll come to a field hos- 
pital after a while, Tom? " 

Lucille asked this, not so much because she was 
anxious concerning the final outcome, since she 
knew that wonderful man, M. Armand, would not 
give up anything he had undertaken until success 
crowned his efforts, as because in her present 


262 Between the Lines in France 


nervous condition she wanted to hear her brother 
whisper words of assurance in her ear. 

“ Haven’t a bit of doubt about it,” he instantly 
told her. 

“ Whether the dog succeeds or not, do you mean, 
Tom? ” 

“ That’s about the size of it,” he continued. “ I’ll 
tell you why. Monsieur knows where these tem- 
porary hospitals have been established along the 
line, for there must be one at regular distances, so 
they won’t have to move the wounded too far.” 

“ Yes, I expect he does know all that; and heaps 
more besides,” Lucille admitted, having by this 
time come to look upon M. Armand as a remark- 
able as well as mysterious personage, to whom few 
things would prove impossible. 

“ Well, if you watch him you’ll see that he acts 
as though he felt satisfied,” the boy continued. 
“ I’ve seen him rub his hands together ever so many 
times, and he keeps on saying to himself something 
that I think must mean ‘ marvelous,’ * superb,’ and 
such things.” 

“Oh! now I understand what you mean, Tom; 
knowing that we are heading for the nearest field 
hospital, monsieur is delighted with the way Mina 
leads us on. He knows we’re getting there.” 

Tom suddenly stopped short. 

“ My stars ! what’s that up there ? ” he exclaimed, 
in sheer amazement. 


The Daring Sky Pilots 263 

Of course at his words every one looked aloft. 
If the moon had been discovered plunging toward 
the earth they could have hardly shown greater 
excitement. 

“Oh! what a big bird, Tom!” gasped Lucille, 
almost unconscious of what she was saying, such 
was her stupefaction. 

Far overhead sailed a strange, unwieldy object. 
Seen in the misty moonlight it had somewhat the 
appearance of an enormous cigar. Certainly no 
bird ever looked like that, as Lucille would have 
known if she had taken time to think. 

Tom was better posted. Besides, having been a 
scout so long had given him the faculty of using 
his wits. 

“ Bird ! ” he echoed, perhaps unconsciously allow- 
ing a touch of boyish contempt to tinge his excla- 
mation ; “ shucks ! that’s not a bird ! Not by a good 
deal!” 

“Then what can it be, Tom?” she continued; 
“ see how it keeps moving right along, faster than 
that little white cloud above it! Oh! can it be a 
balloon, then ? ” 

“ Just what it is, Lucille, a great Zeppelin diri- 
gible, which you know the Germans are depending 
on to do so much harm.” 

“ Byt what can it be after now, Tom? ” demanded 
Lucille, still staring up at the monstrous object con- 
quering the upper air currents, and capable of 


264 Between the Lines in France 

carrying a score of men for hundreds of miles, if 
necessary. 

“ They use them for dropping bombs on forts, 
and ships, and all that, I believe/’ the boy informed 
her calmly. 

“ Then I hope it doesn’t sail over us now,” shiv- 
ered Lucille. “ I’ve been through enough of war 
and its terrors without being fired at with bombs. 
You don’t think they would notice us, do you, 
Tom?” 

His laugh reassured her even before he spoke. 

“Well, I should say not. Even in the daytime 
we’d be only a little speck to those Germans away 
up there. And much they’d want to waste their 
precious bombs flinging them down at a pinhead 
spot on the surface of the earth. Mark my word, 
they’re after bigger game this night ! ” 

“ You mean the trenches of the Allies, don’t you, 
Tom? Or perhaps they hope to put one of the big 
guns nearby out of commission? ” she suggested. 

“ I guess it’s greater even than that,” Tom went 
on. 

“ Please tell me what you mean, then ? ” she 
begged him, as they continued to stand and watch 
the approaching airship. It sailed steadily onward, 
evidently bent upon an important errand. 

“ It must be that supply train they’re after ! ” 
Tom announced. 


The Daring Sky Pilots 265 

“ The ammunition that is coming up, you mean, 
Tom? ” 

“ Yes, that’s it,” he told her; “ maybe one of their 
aeroplane scouts discovered the train far south of 
here, and knew what a precious cargo it carried. 
If the Germans could only demolish the whole busi- 
ness you can see what a feather it’d be in their caps. 
Big guns without ammunition are about as useless 
as a sun dial without the sun.” 

“ I understand what you mean, now, Tom. So 
the men up there are expecting to drop bombs down 
on that train we’ve been hearing getting nearer and 
nearer? ” 

“ I heard Monsieur say something about a train 
to the sergeant, and that put me wise,” Tom told 
her. “ It gave me a clue, to be honest with you. 
And as sure as anything that’s what they’re mean- 
ing to do.” 

“ But, Tom, can they hit such a small thing as a 
moving train from away up there? It must take a 
lot of skill to drop a bomb so far, and make it fall 
on even an acre of ground that’s been marked out.” 

“ Oh ! they practice all that, let me tell you, and 
know how to regulate it to a dot. Besides, I may 
be mistaken, but right now it seems to me they’re 
dropping down a lot lower. That means they want 
to make sure of their aim.” 

“ But if they do that won’t it mean the Allies will 


266 Between the Lines in France 

have a greater chance to hit the balloon, and smash 
it? ” Lucille asked, as though she believed Tom was 
a walking encyclopaedia. 

“ They’re willing to take that risk, in order to 
carry out the big plan,” he continued. “ Fact is, 
maybe they’d be ready to lose the Zeppelin, if only 
they could make sure the ammunition train had been 
blown up. These Germans are as brave as they 
make them nowadays ; I wouldn’t put anything past 
them. There goes the first shot. Watch and see 
what happens ! ” 

Almost as soon as Tom ceased speaking they saw 
a flash far up in the air, though still below the 
swiftly moving dirigible balloon. 

“ That was a shell bursting,” explained Tom, 
thrilled with excitement. “ But it didn’t come any- 
where near the Zeppelin. Next time they’ll aim to 
send one farther. But that will start things roar- 
ing, or else I’m much mistaken. Now listen, sis ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


IN THE TRENCHES 

Just as Tom said, that first shot seemed to have 
been a signal for the bombardment of the venture- 
some air navigators to begin. Guns large and small 
started to boom in various quarters ; and quickly 
shells could be seen bursting in the air. 

“ Whew ! talk to me about your Fourth of July 
fireworks, don’t that beat anything going?” ex- 
claimed Tom, as the entire party watched and 
speculated on the chances which the monster airship 
had of escaping with a whole skin from this shower 
of missiles directed toward the heavens. 

“ What would happen if one of those bombs sent 
some of its contents into the gas bag, Tom? ” Lu- 
cille asked, breathlessly, as though anticipating see- 
ing the Zeppelin collapse at any moment. 

“ Well, that depends on how many of the com- 
partments happened to be damaged,” was the reply. 
“ You see, they make them up of a lot of units, 
perhaps as many as ten or twenty. They’re ar- 
ranged on the same order as ocean steamships are 
these days. If one compartment of a boat is 
flooded it doesn’t matter much, if only the doors be- 
tween have been shut beforehand.” 

267 


268 Between the Lines in France 


“ Oh ! how smart of them ! ” ventured Lucille. 

“ But the steering apparatus of these dirigibles is 
the weakest link in the chain, I reckon/’ the boy con- 
tinued. “ If the Allies could only put that out of 
business you’d see something happen mighty quick, 
believe me.” 

“ I’m glad they’re not going to pass over our 
heads,” Lucille observed. 

“Well, I am too,” her brother admitted; “but 
not because of anything the Zeppelin might do. 
Think of all the stuff that’s being wasted up there 
rattling down again, will you ? Excuse me from be- 
ing underneath the shower.” 

“ Is the balloon still coming down, do you think, 
Tom? ” 

“ Seems that way to me.” 

“ What reckless men those Germans are ! ” Lu- 
cille marveled. 

“ They have their share of it, though you’ll find 
just as many French, British, yes, and Belgian air 
pilots who’d be willing to take any sort of risk so 
as to try and make a big scoop.” 

“ But suppose they do blow up the ammunition 
train, Tom, what good would it do those men up 
there? ” 

“ Huh ! a heap of glory, if they live through it,” 
Tom replied. “ I wouldn’t be much surprised if the 
Kaiser, with his own hands, fastened the Iron Cross 
on each man’s breast. You don’t know what sol- 


In the Trenches 269 

diers will dare for such a wonderful reward as 
that.” 

Perhaps Lucille, being only a girl, could not grasp 
the idea. It certainly did not seem to appeal to 
her in the same way it did to Tom. 

The dirigible had passed the first line of trenches 
amidst a storm of shots. Tom tried to picture in 
his mind what the feelings of those daring men up 
there must be. 

“ Excuse me, but I don’t think I’d, like to be 
along with them,” he shouted in the ear of Lucille ; 
for the guns were making such a dreadful clatter 
that ordinary speech could not be heard. 

All at once Tom gave a yell. 

“ Oh! what is it? ” demanded Lucille, eagerly. 

“ They got the Germans, as sure as anything ! ” 

“ What makes you think so ? ” 

“ Why,” cried the exultant boy, “ look at the tail- 
end of the long gas-bag ; don’t you see how it begins 
to drag lower than 'the front? They’re turning 
around.” 

“ Does that mean they’ve given up the attack? ” 

“ It must. With the Zeppelin unmanageable they 
couldn’t expect to steer directly over the train, you 
see. And now the only hope they have is to get out 
of range of those bombs before they are smashed 
completely.” 

M. Armand, the man of mystery, and every one 
of the French soldiers betrayed great excitement as 


270 Between the Lines in France 

they awaited the final result of the battle of earth 
and sky. 

The bombs were bursting all around the airship 
now. It seemed almost a miracle that those aboard 
could escape annihilation; yet some power appeared 
to guard them. 

“ Honest, I almost hope they do get away,” said 
Tom ; “ when men are as brave as that I take off my 
cap to them, even if they are Germans, and our 
family came from France. They took a big chance, 
and are good losers, all right ! ” 

As the Zeppelin moved further and further away, 
heading across the valley in the direction of the 
German lines, the firing became more furious than 
ever. 

While the airship continued to drop lower and 
lower, as though her ability to remain afloat had 
been seriously affected, at the same time this was 
offset by the fact of her sailing away from the Al- 
lies’ trenches. 

“ She’s beyond the range of some of the guns al- 
ready!” Tom presently announced, with a long- 
drawn sigh, as though he hardly knew whether to 
rejoice or feel sorry. 

“And it’s pretty hard to see the balloon any 
longer,” added Lucille ; “ because it’s made of light- 
colored stuff that seems to blend with the floating 
clouds.” 

“ Oh ! that’s done on purpose,” Tom assured her. 


In the Trenches 


271 

“ They want to hide t'heir dirigibles as much as they 
can, you understand. There, I guess she’s safe, all 
right. Most of the guns have stopped firing.” 

“But what are they shouting so about, Tom?” 
Lucille demanded, as loud cheers began to ascend 
from all along the Allies’ line of works. 

“ Oh ! like as not they know what the dirigible was 
aiming at when it started out,” Tom explained, “ and 
they’re whooping it up because the plan was knocked 
on the head. The French were too keen for the 
Germans that time, I tell you. They had things all 
fixed for a Zeppelin raid.” 

“ And now that it’s all over we can go on again, 
I suppose ? ” Lucille ventured. 

“ We must leave all that to M. Armand,” replied 
Tom; “he’s running the business, and I’m satisfied 
to have it so. Fact is, he’s the most wonderful man 
I ever had anything to do with ; and I’d give a cooky 
to know just what his business is. When a man 
hobnobs with people like the commander-in-chief of 
the French forces, and is received with a hearty 
handshake by even the British general, he must be 
of some account, that’s sure.” 

Of course Tom said this in a low tone, and was 
careful that only Lucille caught his words. He 
would not have liked M. Armand to hear him con- 
fess that curiosity was fairly eating him up ; it would 
have been a poor return for all the other had done 
for the Maillards. 


2J2 Between the Lines in France 

Apparently the pilot of the expedition was now 
satisfied to proceed again, since he spoke to the 
sergeant, who was holding in the eager dog all this 
while. 

They had hardly started when again there arose 
a turmoil that thrilled Tom and his sister. 

“ Is the Zeppelin coming back again ? ” cried Lu- 
cille. 

“ Impossible ! ” answered Tom. 

“ But listen to all the firing! ” she continued. 

“ Those are heavy German ‘ hochs ’ we hear ! ” ex- 
claimed the boy, startled by the realization of the 
fact. “ It must be another attack on the French 
lines ! ” 

“ Oh ! what a terrible place for us to be in !,” she 
called out, in alarm. 

“ They figured on the Zeppelin managing to blow 
up the ammunition train,” said Tom, “ and hoped 
to jump in on the Allies before they could recover 
from the shock, chasing them out of their trenches. 
But they’ll find they’ve bitten off more than they 
can chew this time.” 

M. Armand came hurrying back. 

“ Hasten, children,” he said, in that compelling 
voice of his, “ we must find some sort of shelter be- 
fore the Maxims begin to rake this ground. We 
may get caught between two columns, and be in the 
range of fire.” 

Of course this knowledge caused Tom and Lucille 


In the Trenches 


273 

to hurry their steps. Already the clamor was re- 
doubling, as the oncoming files of Germans began to 
meet resistance. 

Had it been pitch-dark no doubt searchlights, 
which had been prepared for such an occasion, might 
have started to play upon the assaulting host, while 
batteries of big guns and quick-firers opened up with 
a deadly hailstorm of missiles. Since the moonlight 
was strong enough to show the positions of the 
charging enemy there was no necessity for this arti- 
ficial illumination. 

The sergeant and his men clustered around the 
fugitives. It was as though those gallant French- 
men would shield as much as possible with their own 
bodies those who had been committed to their care. 
Tom never forgot this act, because he knew it was 
voluntary on their part, and not the result of some 
order from M. Armand. 

“ Here, this way ! ” called out the last-named, as 
he caught sight of what seemed to be a spur of the 
Allies’ trenches close by ; “ we can drop behind the 
piles of earth and be safe from harm, for a time at 
least ! ” 

He called out something in a loud voice. It must 
have been to warn those who were hidden in the 
trenches that they were friends of France, for an- 
swering words came to reassure them. Men even 
scrambled up and helped lower them into the depths 
of the excavation. 


274 Between the Lines in France 

M. Armand immediately assured his charges that 
they need fear nothing. 

“ Depend on it these brave men will keep the 
enemy back, children,” he concluded, as he laid a 
hand on each of their heads in a fatherly way. ' 

Sitting there, and with every nerve on edge, Tom 
and Lucille listened to the sounds of the battle, now 
growing louder and more bitter. The detonation 
of many firearms both large and small, the cheering 
of furious men, the explosion of shells, and even the 
singing of those solid masses of Germans who rushed 
forward with their shoulders touching — all these 
things united to make a frightful chorus. 

Talking was impossible, so Tom and his sister 
could only cower down, and wait to learn how it was 
all going to come out. The sergeant had tossed the 
dog into the cavity when he jumped, and was doubt- 
less still holding the animal. 

Closer still the swelling roar seemed to come to 
where they had found shelter. Tom could see the 
shadowy figures of the trench guardians standing 
there, and many times sharp explosions announced 
that they were doing their duty. 

Somewhere nearby there must have been a battery 
of Maxims in full play. The peculiar “ chatter ” 
they made as they ground out their “ feed ” was 
something that once heard could never be forgotten. 

Indeed, those who had sought shelter in the 
trenches had reason for more or less uneasiness. If 


In the Trenches 275 

the mad charge of the Germans carried them that 
far who could say what might follow? True, M. 
Armand seemed to have the utmost confidence in the 
ability of the French soldiers, whom he called “ my 
children,” to repulse the enemy; but then, while 
Tom and Lucille believed this man of mystery to be 
a marvel, still he could not work miracles. And 
those hoarse “ hochs ” were terribly near ! 

Tom, like the good brother he was, threw a pro- 
tecting arm around Lucille. While no words were 
said, this seemed to do her a world of good, for she 
snuggled closer to him, as though believing that her 
brother would be able to shield her from harm. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE SECRET OF MONSIEUR ARMAND 

“ Courage ! they are holding them in check ! ” 

Tom had to shout these words close to the ear of 
Lucille, in order to make sure that she could hear 
what he was saying, so loud was the clamor of 
battle. 

It seemed to come and go like the billows of the 
ocean on the beach. With thousands of excited men 
adding their hoarse voices to the roar of guns the 
combination was startling. 

Tom really believed he had good cause for feel- 
ing hopeful. He noted that those in the trenches 
were acting as though wild to leap out, and launch 
a bayonet charge. In fact it was only because the 
order from their commanding officer had not yet 
been given that they held back. 

M. Armand was standing up, evidently peering 
over the edge of the excavation. He seemed as 
calm as though there was not the least particle of 
danger and this fact did much to reassure Lucille. 
At the same time it increased the admiration Tom 
entertained for the man whose friendship had proven 
so valuable. 

Then all of a sudden it seemed as though their 
276 


The Secret of Monsieur Armand 277 

ears would split with the shrill shrieks that broke 
out all around them. 

Lucille, seeing that the French were scrambling 
out of the pits, trembled with new fears, so that 
Tom found it necessary to put his lips close to her 
ear and shout : 

“ They are not deserting us — don’t be afraid — 
they have been ordered to charge on the enemy, 
that’s all ! And there they go like mad, too ! ” 

Indeed, the trenches were already emptied of all 
but a few wounded men. Tom, unable to restrain 
his eagerness any longer, climbed up on the platform 
that had been arranged for firing parties. He was 
thus able to just look over the top of the excava- 
tion, which at this point had not been completed 
with a covering, as most of the trenches were. 

Tom could only see a confusion of figures strug- 
gling in the moonlight. It was impossible to tell 
friend from foe, though he could hear all sorts of 
battle cries being shouted by the striving rivals. 

The boy saw that the assailants were in retreat, 
though stubbornly contesting every foot of ground. 
Their plans had gone amiss, owing in the first place 
to the misfortune that had come to the airship, 
so that the ammunition train had not been de- 
stroyed. 

Tom could also see that the ground was dotted 
with forms of valiant soldiers, belonging to both 
sides, who had gone down in the battle. He told 


278 Between the Lines in France 

himself that never before to an American lad had 
been given such a golden chance to look upon an 
actual engagement between two great armies, backed 
with the most modern of weapons. 

It satisfied him to know that the danger, so far 
as they were concerned, could now be reckoned as 
past. Unless heavy reenforcements came up to sus- 
tain the retreating Germans they would be com- 
pelled to retire to the shelter of their own lines. 

M. Armand had seemed fascinated by the sight. 
As a loyal Frenchman he must have felt proud of 
the brilliant charge which those wearers of the baggy 
red trousers had just executed. 

At the same time he had not forgotten his 
charges. Turning his eyes from the misty scene be- 
yond he faced Tom and Lucille. 

“ Now is our chance, children, to get away from 
here/’ he called out, for the roar of battle was still 
in the air, even though the struggling hosts had 
veered to one side, and were moving off further. 

The sergeant must have understood what was in- 
tended, for he started some of his men, who had 
stayed close by, to climbing out of the hole. Then 
Tom was given a helping hand, and Lucille also. 
Tom noted that the sergeant appeared to be unusu- 
ally respectful when it came to extending a hand to 
M. Armand, who had first insisted on handing up 
Lucille. 

Even the dog was lifted up to the level by the 


The Secret of Monsieur Armand 279 

sergeant’s last man and all seemed ready for making 
new progress. 

But before they turned their backs upon the battle- 
field they stood with uncovered heads for a mimute. 
It was possibly an act of homage on the part of M. 
Armand and the soldiers; they were paying respect 
to the brave comrades who had fallen in defense of 
the tri-color of France. 

Tom and Lucille stood with clasped hands. The 
Maxim fire had died out and even the fierce sounds 
of conflict were coming from a greater and greater 
distance. 

There lay the moon-flooded field.. Already were 
men with stretchers beginning to stumble hither and 
thither, searching for the wounded. No matter on 
which side they had fought, it was all the same, and 
first come first served was the order of the Red 
Cross. 

Pitiful cries were wafted to the ears of those who 
listened. They would not soon be forgotten by the 
two Americans who had been thrown between the 
lines of the battling forces on French soil. 

“ Come, let us go ! ” they heard M. Armand say, 

The dog was no longer to be depended on. All 
this commotion was enough to have destroyed any 
desire on the part of Mina to follow a scent. Be- 
sides, they had abandoned the trail at the time the 
rush for shelter was made. 

“ It does not matter,” said M. Armand, when Torn 


280 Between the Lines in France 


mentioned this to him. “ We know very well which 
field hospital the dog was heading for at the time 
we sighted the Zeppelin. So instead of wasting 
time we shall now walk directly that way.” 

The last glimpse they had of the field where the 
terrible fight had taken place showed them lighted 
lanterns. Men went this way and that, examining 
all the fallen, and possibly looking for command- 
ing officers among the Germans, who had been over- 
taken by death while exhorting their men to ad- 
vance. 

“ There comes the train that the dirigible was 
after,” Tom told Lucille, when they had mounted a 
low elevation, that allowed a survey to the south. 

The line of slowly moving lights, and the sparks 
issuing from the smokestack of the engine drawing 
the heavily laden vans betrayed the presence of the 
train. 

“ Do you think we can be near the field hospital ? ” 
asked Lucille, trying to forget the terrible things 
she had just witnessed, and once more pick up the 
thread of their own fortunes. 

“ I’ve got an idea it must be over yonder,” an- 
swered Tom, pointing. 

“Where those lights are, you mean?” 

“Yes, because we’re heading straight that way; 
and you heard what he said about taking a bee-line 
there,” the boy replied. 

Lucille did not pursue the subject any further, but 


The Secret of Monsieur Armand 281 

her brother knew very well what her thoughts must 
be. Would they find dear old Uncle Alvin at the 
field hospital in the care of young Doctor Jacques? 
At least they were likely to know the worst inside 
of ten minutes or so, for the twinkling lights ahead 
were not very far distant. 

No doubt those in charge were hastening to get 
everything in readiness, for the new lot of cases that 
soon would be carried in, when the men with the 
stretchers, and the field ambulances, began to ar- 
rive. 

Lucille caught Tom’s arm in a convulsive clutch 
when they found themselves close to the tents., and 
the moving figures, many of them nurses wearing 
the Red Cross on their arms. 

M. Armand, knowing how terribly their young 
hearts must be gripped with the suspense of the mo- 
ment, did a thing which showed how he cared for 
them. He came and put his steady arm around the 
shrinking figure of poor, tired Lucille, and his brave 
words of cheer did much to rekindle the flame of 
hope in her heart. 

“ It will be all right, children, believe me,” he told 
them ; “ prepare then to greet this charming old uncle 
of yours in the proper spirit. Here we are close to 
the large tent which is used as the headquarters of 
the field hospital. It is in this section, then, we 
should find him, if he is the guest and charge of 
Doctor Jacques.” 


282 Between the Lines in France 


All at once Lucille uttered a cry. 

“ There he is now — Doctor Jacques, I mean ! 
And he looks this way, too! Doctor, oh! Doctor, 
wait for us, please ! ” she called out in her best 
French. 

The young surgeon, of whom they had become 
quite fond in the long days when Uncle Alvin was 
confined to the town hospital, must have heard his 
name called aloud, for he started toward the group. 
He could hardly believe his eyes on seeing Lucille 
and her brother. 

“ This is indeed a great pleasure, I assure you,” 
he told them, hastening up with outstretched hand; 
“ and now I can tell what you are going to ask me 
before you say a word. Yes, he is as well as could 
be expected, and in a minute you can see him.” 

Tom felt the little figure at his side quiver. Then 
Lucille tried to laugh, although the effort was hys- 
terical, and pretty much of a failure, because her 
nerves had been too much racked of late for merri- 
ment. 

Hurriedly they turned into the large tent, and 
there sure enough they found Uncle Alvin. The 
little old gentleman was sitting upon some sort of 
rude cot, and had an army blanket thrown over his 
shoulders. He had no doubt been listening to those 
sounds of warfare that must have come from the 
other side of the rise. 

Perhaps he caught the glad cry that Lucille could 


The Secret of Monsieur Armand 283 

not keep back as she started toward him. At any 
rate Uncle Alvin suddenly stretched out his two 
hands, and in another minute the girl was crying 
in the shelter of his arms. 

Tom, too, came in for a share of attention, for 
Uncle Alvin was exceedingly fond of the boy. Of 
course he recognized M. Armand, who shook hands 
with him as though they were old friends. 

“ You must be our good angel, Monsieur/’ Uncle 
Alvin told him. “ First you snatch a silly old man 
out from under the wheels of a motor ’bus in the 
streets of London, and now you have also saved my 
beloved children. How shall we ever thank you? ” 

“ By always praying for the success of my poor 
country in her fight for national existence,” an- 
swered the other, gravely. 

“ That I shall certainly do every day I live,” re- 
plied the old gentleman with enthusiasm ; “ and not 
only because we are indebted so much to you, Mon- 
sieur, but because we too have French blood in our 
veins.” 

“ You delight me,” the other told him, with beam- 
ing eyes ; “ and before I leave you, for urgent busi- 
ness demands that I go elsewhere shortly, I will see 
that you are given a chance to start southward, either 
to Paris, or to Havre as you choose. If you intend 
to cross over to England again, then you would do 
well to make for the coast without delay.” 

They soon realized that this mysterious man 


284 Between the Lines in France 

seemed to command considerable authority on the 
fighting line. When the general in charge of that 
section came to the field hospital half an hour later 
he greeted M. Armand with great respect and cor- 
diality, a fact Tom noted with curious eyes, and a 
line across his forehead, as though the mystery hov- 
ering over this good friend still worried him. 

Finally M. Armand came toward them again. 
His face was wreathed in smiles. 

“ I have good news for you all,” he said, upon 
joining them. 

“ That must mean you have discovered a way in 
which we can get out of the war zone, and find the 
land of peace again,” suggested Uncle Alvin. 

“ Yes, in the morning a train will leave the front,” 
they were told. “ They will come for you here, 
under positive orders that you are to be guests of 
honor. I am sorry that it has to be a sorrowful 
trip, for many poor fellows who are wounded will 
be aboard. Perhaps you will be glad to do for them 
what you are able ; for I have seen that our little girl 
wears a Red Cross on her sleeve, fastened there I 
am sure with no thought of anything save service.” 

“ Oh ! I have already tried to be useful ! ” cried 
Lucille, blushing. “ Doctor Jacques told me I had 
the making of a real nurse in me. And we promise 
you, Monsieur, that anything we can do we will with 
our whole hearts.” 

“ Your friends, Sir Archibald and his good wife, 


The Secret of Monsieur Armand 285 

are working in there now among the first wounded 
to arrive. They have decided to stay here, he to 
get news for his newspaper, and she to be a nurse. 
I believe she will be one of the best we have, she 
seems so sensible, so strong. They expect to meet 
you again before you go. And now I must say 
good-by. If I do not see you again I shall often 
think of you.” 

He squeezed Lucille’s hand, shook that of Uncle 
Alvin, and turning to Tom, said: 

“ Walk with me outside, my son, where I will say 
adieu, and give you a last word.” 

Tom hastened to accompany him. He won- 
dered whether the man of mystery might not be in- 
tending in parting from him to say a few words that 
would tell something of his identity. 

As Monsieur Armand held out his hand there was 
a little smile on his dark face. 

“ I have your home address, Thomas,” he said, 
“ and it may be, some time in the dim future, after 
this war is over, and France has come into her own, 
I might take a run across to your great country, 
which I have not visited for some years, since I was 
quartered in Washington on the staff of our am- 
bassador. Of course you are wondering what of- 
fice I hold, that I seem to know so many great men. 
I am going to whisper it to you; but promise that 
you will not reveal my secret even to your sister, 
until you are on the steamer, homeward bound.” 


286 Between the Lines in France 


“ I give you my word of honor, sir,” said Tom, 
earnestly. 

“ This is all,” continued Monsieur Armand, 
softly; “ I am the representative of the President 
of the French Republic. I carry his orders back 
and forth. I am trusted by him, and that is why 
even General Joffre is my friend. Remember, si- 
lence! And, Tom, may you all reach your native 
shores in safety. Adieu, and Heaven bless you ! ” 

And so the mystery that had long puzzled Tom 
was solved at last. Their friend M. Armand was 
a man of authority, in close touch with President 
Poincare of France. Possibly he had been over in 
England on secret business at the time they first 
met him. 

“ And,” said Tom to himself, after the other had 
left him, “ I guess the two soldiers he told us he was 
looking for, so as to get their signatures to a docu- 
ment, are not to be found in the rank and file of the 
army. Their names may even, be Joffre and Pau, 
and they wear the insignia, of generals in the serv- 
ice of the French Republic.” 

Then Tom, feeling satisfied with the way things 
had turned out, once more joined Lucille and Uncle 
Alvin. 


CHAPTER XXX 


LEAVING FRANCE BEHIND CONCLUSION 

Through the kindness of Doctor Jacques, Lu- 
cille was comfortably settled close to Uncle Alvin 
for the remainder of the night, with a blanket to 
wrap around her. 

She did not want to stay idle, but the doctor saw 
that already she must be tired out, and very nervous. 
When he learned all that Tom and Lucille had en- 
dured from the hour they wandered away from the 
hospital, only intending to take a little walk, he was 
not much surprised that she should be so overcome. 

“ There are plenty who can play nurse, and who 
are in a better physical condition to do it just now 
than you seem to be, Lucille,” he told her. “ As a 
doctor I advise that you be kept quiet here, so that 
you may be in condition to leave in the morning. 
Uncle Alvin, see to it that she remains with you.” 

“ What did M. Armand have to say to you, 
Tom? ” asked Lucille the first thing, when they were 
able to talk together, Uncle Alvin having settled 
back for another nap. 

“Well, I like that, now!” exclaimed Tom; 
“ what makes you think he said anything, except to 
bid me good-by, and wish us all good luck? ” 

287 


288 Between the Lines in France 


“ I could see it in your face when you came back,” 
she told him, “ and so own up.” 

“ I’m sorry,” returned Tom, “ but for once your 
wheedling isn’t going to count for a cent. The fact 
of the matter is my lips are sealed until we start 
across the ocean homeward bound. Then I can tell 
you a little secret ; M. Armand gave me permission. 
And so, until then please don’t try to worm it out of 
me, because you can’t — and besides, it wouldn’t be 
fair.” 

Of course Lucille, knowing Tom as well as she 
did, would not try to convince him that he should 
share his secret with her. 

“ I’ll try my best to wait, then,” she said, with a 
sigh ; “ but it’s going to be an awful hard thing to 
do. But just now, Tom, I feel that we ought to be 
thankful that everything has come out as well as it 
did. Think of what dangers we’ve escaped; and if 
everything goes well in the morning we’ll be on our 
way to the coast, where we can get a boat for Eng- 
land.” 

Shortly afterward, finding that poor Lucille had 
actually fallen asleep, Tom believed he might leave 
her for a while. He wanted to see what a field 
hospital was like, and if his friend Doctor Jacques 
could make any use of him. 

The very first person he ran across after leaving 
the large tent was Sir Archibald Featherstone. 
The little baronet was hurrying along, as though he 


Leaving France Behind — Conclusion 289 

carried the fate of empires on his shoulders; but at 
sight of Tom he came to a sudden stop and was soon 
pumping the boy’s hand. 

“ Meant to look you up, after they told me you 
and your sister had come in,” he hurriedly ex- 
claimed, as he kept working Tom’s hand. “ You 
see, my wife has made up her mind she can be of 
considerable use here in the hospital, so now she’s 
wearing the Red Cross. As for me, I’ve picked up 
a tremendous amount of information which I 
would like to get on to my paper, if only I had some 
way to send it there, you know.” 

“ Why not trust it to me, then? ” suggested Tom. 

“ My word ! do you mean that you expect to go 
across soon ? ” cried the delighted baronet, starting 
to shake Tom’s hand again. 

“ M. Armand has arranged it so that the three of 
us will leave the front on the train that carries the 
wounded,” Tom told him. “ It starts in the morn- 
ing, and we have hopes of landing in England inside 
of a few days, if we’re lucky. Give me a packet, 
and I’ll see that it gets to your editor, as soon as we 
reach London.” 

“ That’s jolly good of you, don’t you know!” 
cried the delighted baronet. “ Here, it is made up 
to include the recent attempt of the enemy to ex- 
plode* our ammunition train, and the fight that fol- 
lowed. A beastly bad job all around, and I hope my 
account will hearten Old England up.” 


290 Between the Lines in France 

He promised to look them up early in the morn- 
ing, when the train started; and sure enough both 
the baronet and his wife were there to bid farewell 
to those who had been their fellow refugees. 

Doctor Jacques was also on hand to say good-by. 
He had been working throughout the night, and 
even superintended removing those of the wounded 
who were supposed to be in a condition to bear the 
long railway journey south, to where the country, 
not being overrun with the enemy, could take better 
care of them. 

“ I’m sure glad to be getting away from where all 
the fighting is going on,” Tom told Lucille, after 
they had been an hour aboard the hospital train, of 
which the wounded occupied nearly all the carriages 
and vans, attended by a certain number of Red 
Cross nurses, with a couple of doctors as well. 

“ I’ve heard you say more than once, Tom,” Lu- 
cille told him, “ that you’d like to see what a battle 
looked like. I hope you’re satisfied now.” 

“ Yes, I never want to watch another as long as 
I live,” he admitted. “ I know how you feel about 
it, too. I was just wondering if we might run 
across the Dorrs over in London. We expected to 
meet in Rome, you know, but they say people have 
had to get out of there about as fast as they did from 
Switzerland, so the chances are, every American will 
make for England to get a vessel home.” 

“ Yes, and now you’re thinking about that silly 


Leaving France Behind — Conclusion 291 

wager you made with Harvey; own up that I’m 
right, Tom?” Lucille rallied him, for at times it 
seemed as though she could almost read her 
brother’s thoughts. 

“ Well, I was wondering where Harv and his 
little snapshot camera are about now,” Tom ad- 
mitted. “ Then there are our good friends the Cas- 
lons, who expected to have such a glorious time of it 
in Austria; I wonder if they’ve seen anything of the 
fighting over there.” 

“Austria is deep in the war, isn’t she?” de- 
manded Lucille. 

“ Yes, but there has been no real invasion of her 
territory, as happened in Belgium and Northern 
France; so I imagine the Dorrs and ourselves will 
be the only ones of all the party to have exciting 
stories to tell.” 

When Tom said that he was mistaken. Those of 
their friends who had gone to the country of the 
Tyrol happened to be caught in just as serious pre- 
dicaments as had come to the Maillards in France, 
and the Dorrs in Belgium. Just what adventures 
befell the Caslons, and what stirring war scenes they 
found themselves mixed up in, will be found nar- 
rated in the next volume of this series, under the 
title of “ Between the Lines in Austria.” 

The hospital train pursued its way steadily south- 
westward, and in due time Uncle Alvin, with Tom 
and his sister reached Havre. There they had to 


292 Between the Lines in France 

wait a short time before they could obtain accom- 
modations across to England, such was the rush of 
American tourists headed homeward. 

“ Our glorious vacation tour didn’t pan out just 
as we figured, eh, children? ” remarked the little old 
gentleman, after they found themselves safely 
aboard, and leaving the harbor, headed westward 
for the hospitable shores of England. 

“ Oh ! well, Uncle, we’re so happy to think of get- 
ting away safe and sound,” Lucille told him, “ that 
you’re not going to hear a single word of complaint 
from us, is he, Tom? ” 

“ He certainly will not,” replied the one addressed, 
with a shake of the head ; “ and when you come to 
think of it, haven’t we a thousand times more inter- 
esting happenings to tell when we get back home 
than if we’d just finished up that automobile trip in 
the regular way ? ” 

“ Yes,” mused Uncle Alvin, “ you have seen 
strange sights for those so young. I can only hope 
that it will make you more serious and thoughtful 
on account of having encountered so much human 
suffering. When we get to London to-night we will 
find a place to stay, and then look around, so as to 
learn if any of our friends have arrived.” 

“ My first duty will be to hustle around to that 
newspaper office, and hand in the packet of copy Sir 
Archibald trusted to me. Every day I’ll watch that 
sheet to find out what kind of a writer our friend is. 


Leaving France Behind — Conclusion 293 

It’ll give us a queer feeling, to be reading a descrip- 
tion of the very things we saw happen with our 
own eyes.” 

“ How long shall we stay in London, Uncle?” 
asked Lucille, with a sigh, and a quick glance to- 
ward her brother. 

“ A very few days only, if we can get a boat to 
New York,” the little old gentleman assured her. 
“ Just long enough to get rested, fed, and see if our 
friends have arrived. Then it’s for us to get started 
for home.” 

“ And when our boat leaves the dock, Tom,” con- 
tinued Lucille, wistfully, “ you’ll remember to keep 
your promise to me, won’t you, and tell me the secret 
you’re holding back ? ” 

Tom smiled at her, knowing what any girl must 
be enduring to be kept in ignorance so long. 

“ I gave you my word, and you know I never 
break it,” he told her; and with that assurance she 
had to be content. So they sat there, and with 
varied emotions watched the shore of France fade 
further and further in the distance. 



























































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NOTES 

Note i. See Page 40. 

What Monsieur Armand so cautiously told Mr. Maillard 
and the young people that day in Paris, when they discov- 
ered him talking to the celebrated French commander, 
General Joffre, was in fact just what did happen shortly 
afterward. Servia had received an ultimatum from Aus- 
tria, and had agreed to all the terms but one, which she 
believed was more than any free and independent nation 
could submit to ; but at the same time expressed a willing- 
ness to have disinterested parties at The Hague arbitrate 
between her big neighbor and herself. 

Austria would not have this, but threatened invasion 
unless an immediate and favorable reply were given. 
Then Russia, who looked upon Servia in the light of a 
godchild, stepped in and protested that she would have 
something to say about that. Mobilization began. Ger- 
many, as Austria’s ally, demanded that Russia cease to 
mobilize. Failing this Germany suddenly declared war on 
Russia, which of course meant France also, since the for- 
tunes of those two countries were united. 

Great Britain, finding that Germany’s plan of campaign 
necessitated a crossing of Belgium, whose neutrality had 
been agreed upon by all the Great Powers, warned the 
Teutonic empire that unless her troops were withdrawn 
inside of twenty-four hours she would consider the act 
hostile, and be compelled to make war upon Germany. 
Belgium resisted to the utmost the invasion of her coun- 
try, and really ruined the plans of the Germans for a dash 

29S 


Notes 


296 

upon Paris, by holding their armies up many days through 
a heroic, if hopeless, defense. 

What Monsieur Armand knew at that time previous to 
the actual outbreak of hostilities was of course just as 
familiar to all those who had their finger on the feverish 
pulse of events that were so rapidly transpiring throughout 
the great nations of Europe. 

Note 2. See Page 93. 

While the French mobilization could never for a single 
moment be compared with the marvelous work accom- 
plished throughout the length and breadth of Germany, 
at the same time from the hour that the order was flashed 
along the telegraph lines the entire country was in a fer- 
ment. Trains were immediately commandeered for the 
use of the military, and unlucky travelers had to do the 
best possible; for their journeys were instantly inter- 
rupted. Everything had to give way to the one great ne- 
cessity of the hour, the gathering of the uniformed hosts, 
with their supplies, baggage, horses it might be, guns, am- 
munition and everything needed for the campaign. 

Such tourists as were caught in France, Germany, Aus- 
tria, and even Belgium found themselves in a trap from 
which escape was tedious, and in some cases hopeless. If 
they possessed the means to hire a car it was only to 
have it taken away the first time they encountered a de- 
tachment of soldiers, because the Nation needed every au- 
tomobile it could beg, borrow, or take by violent means, 
giving security, of course, that after the war was over the 
owner would receive pay. 

Riding on trains was almost prohibited for civilians, 
since they took the place of the country’s defenders. So 
many thousands of Americans had to do more actual 
tramping, under adverse conditions, than they could re- 


Notes 


297 

member in years of their past. Hundreds and thousands 
of returned tourists have had thrilling stories to tell of 
the strange adventures that fell to their lot while endeav- 
oring to make their way to London, where they could 
hope to get a steamer for America. And never in all 
their lives were these same pilgrims one-half so delighted 
to set eyes on the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor 
as during that late summer and early fall. 

Note 3. See Page 112. 

It may be that the true reason may never be known why 
the army of General von Kluck, after so gallantly pressing 
on through Northern France, despite all the resistance of- 
fered by the French and British, suddenly declined to 
undertake the siege of Paris, and turned aside in a tre- 
mendous sweep. That may remain one of the military se- 
crets of Germany for all time. It can safely be assumed, 
however, that it must have been a very powerful reason, 
for the hearts of the invaders were set upon capturing the 
French capital and the Kaiser had doubtless been pictur- 
ing himself riding along the principal avenues at the head 
of his victorious army. 

The most probable reason advanced has been that as the 
French and British armies were still in the field, and dan- 
gers multiplied to the slender line of communication 
which the Germans held with their base in Belgium, Gen- 
eral von Kluck did not dare settle down to a siege. He 
could not hope to batter down those numerous mod- 
ern forts defending Paris until the great siege mortars 
were brought up, which would take considerable time, 
as they had to be hauled much of the way by special road 
engines. 

This possibility had been foreseen, and every possible 
preparation made for a successful retreat. The Battle 


Notes 


298 

of the Marne was, in one sense, a rear-guard action, since 
the Germans were already moving back toward their 
lines on the Aisne, where men had been busily engaged 
making trenches and mounting heavy guns. How stur- 
dily they maintained their grip on that section of North- 
ern France every one knows who all through the fall 
and early winter read day after day the story of the 
fight of the rival trenches ; where the hostile armies were 
often close enough to each other to exchange trifles when 
a temporary truce was called. 

Note 4. See Page 120. 

Doubtless many of the stories that have been told con- 
cerning the amazing preparations made by the alert Ger- 
man military people for the event of just such a world 
war have been overstated. All manner of incredible 
yarns flew around until it was next to impossible to sift 
the chaff from the wheat. Enough is known, however, 
to satisfy the most incredulous person that they left few 
things undone that would accrue to their benefit in case 
of hostilities. 

Among these hills of Northern France numerous places 
were found where solid concrete foundations had been 
made for some projected works; and then the idea 
seemed to have been abandoned. In every instance it 
was a German capitalized company that owned the 
ground; and these solid foundations just suited the great 
guns that later on came to be used on those elevations. 
Strange to say, in every case the abandoned factory foun- 
dation was upon a point of wonderful strategical im- 
portance in the famous retreat of the German host to the 
region of the Aisne. So it appears that accident had no 
part in such an amazing combination. 

Near Antwerp, too, where certain German merchants 


Notes 


299 

owned country seats situated possibly five or seven miles 
away, it was discovered that in one case there had been 
made a remarkable tennis court of solid concrete. No 
one ever dreamed that it was of such thickness until 
later on one of those terrible howitzers was planted on 
this foundation, and had the exact range of the forts de- 
fending the city. 

They even declared that over in England certain foun- 
dations were discovered; but such reports can be taken 
with a grain of salt. During the “ spy scare ” any sort 
of a story found ready sale among the London news- 
papers, as such reports were supposed* to assist recruit- 
ing. 


Note 5. See Page 131. 

History already tells us that within a few hours after 
the order for a general mobilization had been given the 
whole German Empire underwent an extraordinary 
change. At every railway station there suddenly sprang 
up, not camps of tents, but long lines of pitch-pine sheds, 
every board ready-cut so that it could be dropped into 
place. When the first detachment of reservists appeared, 
according to the time-table in the hands of every sergeant, 
at its appointed station, the men found shelter from sun 
and rain, and long tables whereon the Red Cross organi- 
zation had prepared water, lemonade, and even sausages. 

So exact were the arrangements in all these respects, 
at any rate throughout Prussia, that on receipt of the 
order for mobilization even ice was ready to cool the 
drinking water. From every village throughout the vast 
Empire little knots of men began to trudge to the sta- 
tions, whence they would be transported to their regi- 
mental headquarters. 

A writer in describing the astounding changes that had 


300 


Notes 


taken place five days after the order had gone forth, 
speaks of the huge level plain which reaches from the 
Silesian forests to the Teutoburg hills. He says: “The 
open country appeared as if it had been swept of all its 
inhabitants. In the golden cornfields were wagons, half- 
laden; here and there stood a ladder against a half fin- 
ished rick; even the women had disappeared, and the 
only sign of human life over mile after mile of the great 
plain was an occasional silent figure, usually an old man, 
standing, shotgun in hand, by a bridge or level crossing.” 

In the summer resorts, in the height of the season, 
guests, waiters, and the inn-keepers themselves were 
gone. Every man liable to military duty knew his place, 
and like spokes of an immense wheel they flew to take 
their part in the wonderful organization. Truly the like 
has never been seen before, and may never come again. 

Note 6. See Page 162. 

Ever since the Franco-Prussian war in the early seven- 
ties the word “ Uhlan ” has been used in certain parts 
of France as a means of frightening rebellious children, 
much as some fathers and mothers threaten their off- 
spring with the coming of an ogre; or colored folks in 
the South warn their pickaninnies that the “ boogerman ” 
will catch them if they don’t mend their ways. 

The probability of the matter is that these terrible 
Uhlans are no better, no worse, than any raiding body of 
daring cavalrymen, who take their lives in their own 
hands continually when sweeping through the enemy’s 
country. War is a cruel business at best, and Germans 
have been trained to be soldiers first, and humane citi- 
zens afterwards. When Sherman pushed through Geor- 
gia the same was said of his raiding cavalry. Forrest 
did exactly the same things for the Confederates when he 


Notes 


301 

found his command in a desperate situation, with enemies 
on all sides. Necessity compels many things that look 
harsh. 

Very likely many of those same Uhlans who gained 
such a hard name, when at home are mothers’ boys, and 
respectable units of the community in which they live. 
But at the call to the colors they become soldiers, and 
for the time being the old life is a thing of the past. 
After the war is over those who survive will perhaps go 
back to their families, and resume their previous occu- 
pations. Nor will their neighbors look upon them as 
ogres and savages. 

The Cossacks are somewhat different, because they 
come from the wild sections of Russia and Siberia. 
Many of them might be compared with our reckless west- 
ern cow-punchers, having lived amidst scenes of excite- 
ment, and possessing an utter disregard concerning their 
own lives. These Russian cavalrymen are feared far 
more by the dwellers of East Prussia farms than any 
Uhlan could be in France; since they present a wild, bar- 
baric appearance when they swoop down on village or 
patrol, which is calculated to strike terror to the hearts 
of those opposed to them. 

Note 7. See Page 168. 

Never in the history of all wars were such wonderful 
trenches constructed as on both sides during that san- 
guinary struggle of weeks and weeks along the Aisne, 
and over in Belgium as well. Men often stayed in these 
excavations for a week at a time. They were said to 
possess “ all the comforts of home.” However true that 
may be, they were certainly constructed in a way that 
allowed of the greatest freedom of movement, being all 
of six to seven feet deep, with a raised platform upon 


Notes 


302 

which the marksmen stood when firing, and which would 
also keep them from standing in the water in case of a 
heavy rain. 

Over the top was a veritable roof or canopy, often 
of sheet-iron or steel, and shrapnel proof, as well as af- 
fording a means for throwing aside most of the rain 
that might chance to fall. The men slept on this raised 
platform, for there was usually a cavity dug into the 
ground that allowed for considerable space being occu- 
pied when a soldier was stretched out at length, covered 
with «. blanket. 

When two armies have entrenched in this way, even 
using vast quantities of concrete in places to make their 
hiding-places more substantial, the fighting must natu- 
rally partake more of the nature of a siege than an or- 
dinary battle. Those Germans proved to be splendid 
“ stickers,” and had to be actually dug out of their holes. 
In some places the Allies undermined their trenches, and 
blew them up. 

Taken all in all, the surprises of this war have beaten 
all records in scores of ways. The preparedness of the 
Germans will forever stand as the high-water mark of 
forethought ; even with those who condemn the world em- 
pire idea that seemed to be the main motive back of all 
their plans. 

Note 8. See Page 194. 

What Tom referred to was the wonderful siege gun 
known as a howitzer, which in fact battered the modern 
fortresses of Liege, Namur and Antwerp to pieces. 
These the Germans had begun to manufacture after the 
Russo-Japanese war, as the result of what their military 
observers had seen the Japanese howitzers accomplish. 


Notes 


303 

Austria, too, had been making them in quantities. The 
work of these strange guns was watched with great inter- 
est. Many generals, even in the German army, disbe- 
lieved in them; but expert German opinion had given its 
unqualified approval. 

They were of almost incredible size, some German 
papers claiming that 17-inch howitzers had been manu- 
factured by the Krupps, and were being used; but it is 
certain that shells eleven inches in diameter were thrown. 

One writer in speaking of the bombardment of the 
steel-domed forts at Liege goes on to say : “ Picture the 
scene. The forts, probably not too well provided with 
ammunition or food, automatically raised their steel cu- 
polas, and fired at anything in sight. Men could no 
longer man the earthworks, for bursting shells covered 
them. Zeppelins dropped explosives from above; the 
shells rained incessantly. The acrid smoke from the high 
explosives penetrated the forts, a smoke that stupefies, 
numbs, and sometimes renders men half-conscious. An 
hour under such a storm of missiles must have been a 
purgatory. The heroes of Liege held on day after day, 
listening every moment for the sounds of the relieving 
army which never arrived.” 

A howitzer differs from an ordinary cannon. Its great 
shell is sent upwards, and is so arranged that it falls 
with frightful velocity upon the object that it is intended 
to demolish. So the Carib Indian would shoot his ar- 
row up in the air and with such wonderful skill that 
in descending it would pierce the shell of a great sea tur- 
tle lying asleep on the surface of the water some dis- 
tance away. The principle involved in piercing that hard 
turtle-shell was applied to smashing the tough steel domes 
of the modern forts, and successfully, too. 


3°4 


Notes 


Note 9. See Page 201. 

When Tom told his sister that military maneuvers in 
these modern days had to be conducted from a vastly dif- 
ferent standpoint than when Napoleon and Grant won 
their remarkable victories, he must have had in mind a 
number of things he had read along these lines. In the 
first place the millions of men engaged make sudden re- 
sults impossible. With a battle line stretching perhaps a 
hundred miles, and three or four millions of men, all 
armed with up-to-date weapons, furiously engaging each 
other, the results are uncertain. In one place the ad- 
vantage lies with Germans, and in another with the 
Allies or the Russians. The Battle of the Marne took 
days; while in Russia with the second German invasion 
for days and days terrible engagements were going on at 
various points before any tangible result could be attained 
on either side. 

Then again such maneuvers as aided Napoleon to win 
most of his victories, through taking his enemies by sur- 
prise, are no longer feasible. Aeroplane scouting has 
spoiled all the romance and glamour of battles. They 
must now depend mostly on holding power, the ability to 
get the most men up to the firing line ; and in keeping the 
line of communication clear so that fresh supplies of food 
and ammunition may be constantly arriving. 

Besides these features that go to make such radical 
changes in the fighting, it was through the use of count- 
less motor trucks and automobiles that the wonderfully 
rapid advance of the German armies was accomplished. 
At times thousands of these would carry the troops for- 
ward a certain number of miles, and then rush back for 
another load. So that the power of gasoline, or as they 
call it abroad, “petrol,” was a potent factor in accom- 


Notes 


305 

plishing many of the amazing feats that have been re- 
corded in the history of the great European conflict. 

Note 10. See Page 239. 

As a rule the emblem of mercy known as the Red Cross 
was carefully regarded by all parties in the great Euro- 
pean conflict. French, British, German and Belgian 
armies all had nurses, doctors and attendants working 
under this sacred emblem; and unless the necessity was 
very urgent their guns were never allowed to be trained 
on a section where that flag floated, whether over a regu- 
lar hospital or one in the field. 

There might arise occasions, however, when some abso- 
lute necessity compelled the bombardment of a position 
close to such a hospital, and considering that the hos- 
tile guns were located many miles away it was not strange 
that more or less damage was done to property that should 
have had protection from all flying shells. 

It is almost beyond reason to believe that either side 
would deliberately shell a building in which the wounded 
were being succored; perhaps many of their own men as 
well as those of the other side. The Germans were ac- 
cused of this much more than the Allies, which possibly 
arose from the fact that their discipline was more severe; 
and men counted for so little as against the national re- 
sults to be attained. 

Some of the stories that were current with regard to 
such abuses of the recognized rules of modern warfare 
may have been founded on fact ; but many others no doubt 
were manufactured out of whole cloth. The hospital in 
the town where the Maillards were marooned so long hap- 
pened to be in a bad position, since it lay in the direct 
line of fire of the German batteries on the far-off hills. 
It certainly had not been picked out as a particular ob- 


Notes 


306 

ject at which to fire; but being in bad company had, like 
Dog Tray, suffered from associations. Those in charge, 
realizing that their patients would be in constant peril if 
they remained, had managed to have them all removed on 
the first night of the bombardment. 

















































































































































































































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